


Hollow Life

by PeppyDragon



Series: The Bucket List [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyDragon/pseuds/PeppyDragon
Summary: (Part 1 of 4 in the Bucket List Series, re-written and re-vamped from the 2012 original.  Originally on fanfiction.net)Earthborn Jane Shepard is spending her shore leave fulfilling an unusual bucket list item - driving across America in an ancient convertible. Only one other person is brave enough to go along for the bumpy, and surprising, ride - her turian best friend, Garrus Vakarian.- Jane Shepard/Garrus Vakarian || Takes place after the events of ME1-





	1. Wild Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hi, all! First off, I don't own anything - all characters are thanks to Bioware.
> 
> The Bucket List Series was originally posted back in 2012 on fanfiction.net. I was recently asked if I ever planned on re-writing (or at least editing) the rough original. I figured, why not? Especially since I'm here on AO3 which is full of amazing and talented folks. Why not share this with them?
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy! I will be finished posting the entire series (4 stories in all) over the next week. Please enjoy!
> 
> PS - The title song for this story is "Hollow Life," by Coast Modern.
> 
> The title song for this chapter is "Wild Child," by Brett Dennen.
> 
>  

 

* * *

 

 

Shepard had fully anticipated staying on the Citadel for the shore leave.  She’d intended to stop by one of their pristine artificial beaches with her Spectre status - maybe even the optional clothing one if she was feeling especially adventurous. 

That had been her vague goal for the additional two weeks of vacation - until she saw the ad in Tour America.

She wasn’t even sure how she’d come by it.  Tour America’s holo-catalog was not one she subscribed to; hell, it wasn’t one that _anyone_ subscribed to, as far as she knew.  And yet she had stumbled across it purely by accident while sitting in Chora’s Den, watching half-naked asari dancers and drinking lukewarm beer.

She wasn’t sure if it was the four beers she’d already downed or the depression at sitting in a strip club on her first night off in months, but something made Shepard nix all of her previous plans and respond to the ad.  
  
Her omni-tool lit up in an incoming call while she was attempting to drunkenly flag down a skycar to take her back to her hotel.  
  
"This is Shepard," she answered, trying very hard not to slur.  She was pretty sure she was doing a decent job of it, but what drunk person didn’t think such things?  
  
"Shepard?" the voice on the other end drawled. Shepard could almost hear chewing tobacco juice sloshing around in his mouth. _"Commander_ Shepard?"  
  
"Yes, sir, that’s me," Shepard answered, sliding into the red skycar that pulled up next to her.  “Hold on a second - hey, I need to get to the Starfire Lounge and Hotel.  As quickly as possible, please.”  As the skycar pulled away from the catwalk, Shepard remembered she was on the comm with an earthling who had something she desperately wanted.  
  
"Commander Shepard, is there… is there something I can do for you?"  
  
Shepard shook herself, trying not to focus on the neon whizzing by, the reflection of the skycar in all of the darkened windows.  "Um, yeah. I saw your ad in Tour America, and I am extremely interested in taking that beauty off your hands."  
  
There was a long silence before the man on the other end let out a whooping yell.  “Seriously?   _Seriously?"_

“Um… yes?”

“Holy shit, Commander Shepard is buying my fucking car!”

 

* * *

 

Joker tried not to groan too loudly when he opened his door, and Shepard was standing there instead of the Chinese food delivery bot.  “Shepard, what-” and then he saw her outfit, a low-slung skirt and a tank top that was riding high, displaying a thick line of her lean stomach.

And then he smelled her.

“Jesus, did you take a bath in beer?”

Shepard smirked at him, swaying a little.  “How about we spend the shore leave on Earth?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as if she’d just propositioned him for a blowjob or quickie in a nasty public bathroom.

“Why would I want to go to Earth?  The Citadel is like… the five-star sister company to the two-star leper company of Earth.”

Shepard cocked an eyebrow.  “Leper company? What are you even-” she broke off, shaking her head as if to clear it.  “Look, I’ll pay you.  I’ll pay for the ship; I’ll pay for your room and board, I’ll even pay for some recreation.  And,” she added, sounding for the life of her like a used skycar salesmen, “I’ll even let you tag along on my adventure.”

Joker tried not to look intrigued, but he was failing.  “What kind of adventure?”

“You’ll just have to come along and see,” she shrugged, leaning against his door frame.  She was either trying to act cool, or she’d stumbled in her heels.

Joker sighed and huffed. _“Fine,_ but you better put me up in nice goddamn hotels.”

“Done,” Shepard agreed, reaching out to punch his arm but remembering herself just before her fist connected.  “Uh… sorry.  I’ll, um… I’ll call your room tomorrow morning once I get a ship lined up.  Any preferences?”

“Preferences?”

“On the ship,” Shepard clarified as if it didn’t need clarification, unstrapping her heels and kicking them off.

Jeff tried not to watch her drunken fumbling.  He tried to focus on getting her away and toward her room.  “As long as it won’t fall apart on me going through atmo, we’re good.”

Shepard grinned.  “That’s what I like to hear!  See you tomorrow, Joker.”  She turned and left, swaying in the hall with her high heels in hand.  Joker closed the door, still reeling from it all.

Shepard had always seemed so professional, so with it.  Seeing her like this, drunk out of her mind and rambling about adventures was odd, to say the least.

 

* * *

 

 

“Shepard, have you been drinking?”

Garrus had caught her outside of her hotel room, frantically digging into her shirt.

Shepard looked up, face flushing guiltily, but a slow, lazy smile stretched over her face when she saw who it was.  “Hey, it looks like I might have lost my key.”

Garrus watched her blankly for a moment.  “In your shirt?”

“Bras are perfect places to hide things,” she defended herself, going back to her search.  “Oh, hey, are you doing anything for the next two weeks?”

Garrus hadn’t been planning on anything.  He had been thinking about looking into joining C-Sec again, at Shepard’s urging, but he still wasn’t convinced it was what he wanted to do.

He had also thought about going back home to Palaven.  It had been a while since he’d seen his sister, and his father had just retired from C-Sec, so he was probably going stir crazy at home.  Garrus’ mother was always thrilled to see him, too, so he knew he would be welcomed with open arms.

Even so, when Shepard asked if he had plans, he didn’t say any of that.  He said, “Not really.  Thinking about getting some practice in at Armax Arena.”

“For two weeks?” Shepard pressed.  Her hand was still rummaging in her bra.  Garrus was pretty sure that if she hadn’t found the key by then, she was never going to find it.

But he didn’t say that.  Instead, he admired the odd view and said, “Well, what are your plans, Commander?  Thinking of something, in particular, I could help with?”

 Shepard gave up on her bra, somehow not noticing how Garrus’ eyes had dipped to follow the curve of her cleavage, the valley between her breasts that descended into the darkness of her shirt.  “Yes, actually,” she said with a grin.  “I’m going to Earth for a bucket list adventure.  What do you say?”

“Bucket list?”

 Shepard smirked. “You poor aliens, not having bucket lists. It's a list of things you wouldn't normally do that you want to do before you die.”

 Garrus thought about it for only two seconds before responding.  “I say we go downstairs and get you another key.  And then we head to Earth.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shepard exclaimed, clapping her hands in almost childish delight.  Childish if human children smelled like a brewery, anyway.  “You won’t regret it!”

 

* * *

 

Garrus was regretting it.

 Shepard, on the other hand, was ecstatic.  “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” she breathed, running her hand over the pitted, rust-stained hood.  
  
"I don't understand," Garrus murmured in an undertone to Joker. "It's a piece of junk."  
  
Joker scoffed, leaning awkwardly against the hood of the car. "It was a piece of junk a hundred years ago when it was built, too. These things were constantly breaking down, blowing up... I don't know why you'd rather drive around in this rattle trap then go fight geth. It's just as dangerous."  
  
Shepard raised an eyebrow at Joker before retorting, "You don't have to come along if you'd rather sit on the beach and sip mojitos."  
  
"That," Joker alleged, "is exactly what I would rather do. So long as I have to stick around on Earth, I'm getting a tan, I'm getting alcohol, and maybe even getting laid. Preferably not in that order, either."  
  
Shepard rolled her eyes and busied herself with checking every inch of the car, admiring it from all sides.

"Why did you say you weren't going to Palaven?" Joker asked, absently looking around the crowded parking area.  The Spatial Technics and Docking Bay in Homestead, Florida was bustling with arrivals and departures, but Shepard’s ride had been parked in the very back of the lot, mostly empty and largely unseen.  
  
Garrus shrugged, uncomfortable at the line of questioning.  He didn’t want to go into the details of his strained relationship with his father, or the fact that his sister was still dating the worst producer to ever create films on Palaven.  Or that his mother was sick.  Or that touring America with Shepard was an offer he somehow couldn’t refuse.

"I didn't say," was his only response.  He looked over the car, at Shepard who was checking the trunk and then sighed. "So, Joker, are you planning on hobbling around by yourself or do you need a chaperone?"  
  
"Nah," Joker smirked. "I'm trying to catch ladies, remember? Chicks dig the soldier with a debilitating problem. _Damaged goods_ make their maternal instincts go haywire – but in a good way. You'll only slow me down - or scare them away."  
  
Shepard rolled her eyes. "You'd better not get thrown in jail, Joker."  
  
Joker feigned wide-eyed innocence, touching his chest. "Commander, me? I would never. I've been taught respect and dignity from the best CO in the Alliance Navy."  
  
Garrus snorted. "He's going to end up in jail."  
  
Shepard cocked an eyebrow at Garrus, but a smile tugged her mouth. "Garrus, are you hanging around here to babysit? If you'd rather brave the wild and unkempt roads with me, you're welcome to come along for an adventure."  
  
Garrus chuckled. "Wild and unkempt roads, you say? I should probably come along, then.  Someone needs to save you from your driving."  
  
Joker cackled, smacking Garrus’ arm and then wincing.  "With that, I’m out. I don't want to get caught in the middle - innocent bystander and all." He limped away from the car, turning toward the STDB gates. "See ya Commander, Garrus."  
  
Shepard raised a hand goodbye and watched the man disappear into the throng of people arriving and departing the space hub.  
  
“Well, Garrus,” Shepard began, lips curving into a delicious smirk, “we’re already losing daylight, so how about we get our shit in the trunk and head out?”  She didn’t wait for his response before she ducked down to grab her bags, shoving them into the trunk.  She had a large duffle with what Garrus guessed was clothing.and toiletries.  She also had her sleeping bag, the heavy-duty Alliance issued bed gleaming a bright blue.

Turning to Garrus, she put her hands out for his bags.

  
Garrus snorted, grabbed his bags and went to the trunk, placing them in himself.  Shepard made an annoyed noise to which Garrus only flicked his mandibles.  His duffel slid into the trunk beside hers, followed closely by his sleeping bag and rifle. 

"Earth is surprisingly empty. I always heard you humans live in very close quarters," he said conversationally, turning to look at the vast amount of space around them.  
  
"Oh!  Well, space hubs on Earth are pretty strict about not having the populace nearby.  I guess mainly for the safety of the civilians, in case something goes wrong or the hub is attacked?  A lot of the bigger cities are overcrowded. Massive apartments and buildings and houses all shoved together.  When I lived on Earth, it was rough.  From the vids I’ve seen recently, it’s only gotten worse.”  
  
"When was that?" Garrus asked, seeming genuinely interested.  “When you were last here, I mean.”  
  
Shepard had to think about that one. "Well, I had just turned eighteen, joined up with the Alliance on my birthday and got the hell out.  So...it’s been eleven years." She turned back to the trunk to close it, but it wouldn't budge. She took a deep breath and put her full weight behind it.  The trunk stubbornly squealed in protest but did not move.  
  
Garrus was laughing. At her. She stepped back, sighing. "Fine. Obviously, I can't win against a rusted precursor of human ingenuity. Would you mind?"  
  
Garrus, still chuckling, came over and effortlessly shut the truck. "Good thing you've got a turian for a best friend, Commander."  
  
"Good thing," Shepard agreed, flushing happily at his tone, at his words.  There was something about his candor, his sweetness, that always made her slightly uncomfortable in the best of ways.  She cleared her throat and looked away, replacing the confusing feelings with excitement.  

She had originally wanted to do this alone - a solitary drive through what was once considered the wildest and untouched land left on Earth. But now that Garrus was here, it felt right to be sharing it with him.

He was, after all, her best friend.  And who was a more appropriate travel companion that her sweet, accommodating, funny, handsome best friend? 

She shook the thought from her head. _Down, girl,_ she chided herself.  "Come on, Vakarian - let's get this bird in the air."  
  
Garrus' mandibles flared slightly as he contemplated the expression. "This can fly?"  
  
Shepard got behind the wheel, pushing the key into the ignition. She kept forgetting that there was a bit of a language barrier – especially when it came to Earth jargon. "No... it's just an idiom."  
  
Garrus nodded slowly as he got into the passenger seat. The old car was built broad and high, luckily, or else Garrus might have made the trip lying in the back seat. As it was, his fringe nearly brushed the felt roof, and his left arm was hogging the center console. "This is a very small bird."  
  
Shepard snorted to keep her laughter back. She wasn't about to correct him when he was so obviously attempting to be as human as possible. She turned the key, the engine growled, and the vehicle lurched into motion.

* * *

  
That night, amid nothing but old cotton fields and stars, Garrus and Shepard laid in their sleeping bags, looking at the sky.  
  
"Next time I get an extended shore leave, we need to do this on Palaven," Shepard murmured sleepily. “If you can get the time off from C-Sec, or Spectre training, or… you know. Whatever you’re up to when it happens.”  

"Mmhmm," Garrus agreed, sounding just as comfortable as Shepard felt.  
  
"The stars look so different from here," Shepard continued. "They're so cold in space. Unmoving. And from here they look like... almost like... they're alive," she finished after a yawn.  
  
Garrus hummed his agreement, his harmonics sounding like the most delightful purr Shepard had ever heard. Shepard turned onto her side, facing Garrus, and caught him watching her.  She smiled faintly before closing her eyes, falling into a fitful sleep with the Georgian summer air above and Garrus Vakarian at her side.


	2. Nicest Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own anything! 
> 
> This chapter's title song goes to "Nicest Thing," by Kate Nash. Enjoy!

**Day 2**

  
Shepard was awoken by the sound of gunfire. Twisting frantically in her sleeping bag, she reached for the pistol at her hip. She groped around for a few moments before realizing that her pistol was still in the trunk of the car.  She was on Earth with very little firepower and only one friendly on her side.

Shepard turned in the sleeping bag quietly to see if Garrus had heard the shots, too.  But Garrus wasn’t there and his sleeping bag was gone.

 _Did you seriously lose your best friend within 24 hours of landing on Earth?_  
  
Mind reeling, Shepard stilled herself, listening for more gunfire over the sound of her own heartbeat.  There was a ringing silence around her - whoever was shooting seemed to have either gotten their target or was reloading for a second go.

She took the moment of quiet to unzip her sleeping bag and slide out of it.  She crept along the tall grass, crouched over on herself, heading toward where they’d left the car on the side of the road.   _Just a bit farther, just a bit…._  
  
Another shot rang out and Shepard hit the ground. She rolled herself into a compact ball, head shielded by her arms and vitals by her legs. _What in the holy hell is happening?_ she thought desperately. _There isn’t even anything_ out here, _who the fuck -_  
  
"Having fun?"  
  
Shepard turned her head and found Garrus had come to stand next to her – his rifle was slung over one shoulder, an empty heat sink in hand. He was grinning like a schoolboy thrilled at his recent prank.  
  
"Damnit, Garrus," Shepard groaned, unraveling herself and getting to her feet. "You really shouldn’t wake up a soldier with gunfire. It tends to put them on edge."  
  
"Sorry, Shepard," Garrus sad smoothly, sounding anything but sorry. "I _did_ try waking you with a friendly jab but you kept sleeping, so I decided to get some practice in. By the way, has anyone told you that you make the most interesting noise when you're sleeping? I have never heard such a thing come from an organic's mouth. It was almost like metal being scraped against metal over and over."  
  
Shepard found herself blushing. "I was snoring? That's impossible. I don't snore."  
  
"And I assume you know this from…?" Garrus trailed off. He sounded amused.  
  
Shepard huffed but felt her mouth tugging into a grin. "Don't make me regret bringing you along, Vakarian. One more crack about my snoring – which I don’t do – and you're getting dropped off on the side of the road.  You’ll have to hoof it back to the space hub,"  
  
Garrus looked confused. "I'm what'ing it back to the space hub?"  
  
Shepard tried to look firm but she couldn’t keep the pretense of being mad - not when it came to him.  "Nothing. Come on, let's find somewhere for breakfast." She gathered up her sleeping gear and tossed it unceremoniously into the trunk again. She popped a toothpaste tablet in her mouth and swiped a bit of lip gloss on before zipping up her toiletry bag. She put that, along with all of Garrus' gear, into the trunk.  
  
Her clothes were rumpled from sleeping in, so she unzipped her bag again and grabbed a new tank top and a pair of very short cut offs.  There was something about vintage-casual Earth wear that still made her feel cool.  She slid her tee shirt off, the sun feeling warm and remarkable on her skin.  She wasn’t sure the last time she’d been so exposed to real sunlight.

She turned in time to catch Garrus watching her, analyzing the slope of her stomach and hips.  She smirked at him before sliding her tank top on over her bra, covering her more interesting stretches of skin.  Garrus had the grace to look embarrassed, his mandibles flaring wide.  Shepard dropped her shorts and changed into the new pair, but Garrus had turned away to put his rifle in the backseat.  
  
Shepard felt warmth flowing through her and it had nothing to do with the sun.  She’d like how Garrus had watched her, his eyes intent and focused.  It wasn’t sexual, exactly - more curious and analytical than anything else.  But it had been a while since someone had looked at her like that - hard and intent.  
  
She shook the thoughts away before slamming the trunk closed and sliding into the driver's seat. Garrus was already in the passenger seat, his right hand securely wrapped around the grab bar above the window.  
  
Shepard raised an eyebrow at this. "You feeling okay?"  
  
"Hmm?" Garrus asked, seeming as though his thoughts were elsewhere. He saw her looking at his hand and he chuckled. "Oh, I'm fine. This is just very…comfortable."  
  
"I see…." Shepard paused for a moment before turning the key in the ignition. The engine took a few moments to turn over, but once it did, the car spit out a cloud of dark smoke from the exhaust. _Well, that's fantastic,_ Shepard thought, worry beginning to niggle at the back of her brain. They had around 3000 miles left on their journey and the car was already starting to show signs of decrepitude.  
  
The car jolted forward, running over old growth and weeds as she maneuvered it back toward the road. Garrus' hand tightened on the grab bar but he stayed silent and looked relatively calm. "You know," Shepard ventured, "back in the day, those things were called _oh shit_ handles."  
  
The turian glanced over at her and, completely deadpan, murmured, "You don’t say."  
  
Shepard only laughed and pushed down on the gas pedal. The digital display on the dash rushed from 64 to 83.

* * *

  
The unlikely duo finally stopped outside of a very rundown building surrounded by weeds and scraggly trees. Garrus' sensitive nostrils flared at the scent of decomposing leaves and something decidedly disgusting. Shepard breathed in deeply and said only one word. "Denny's."  
  
"What?" Garrus asked.  
  
Shepard grinned, walking up to the door of the crumbling building. There was a faded yellow sign above the door, thought the writing on it was foreign to Garrus. He hesitantly followed Shepard into what appeared to be a deathtrap. The roof especially looked unsafe  
  
A young human greeted them at the door, her big blue eyes seeming to enlarge at the sight of Garrus. "Y’all aren’t from around here, are you?" she drawled, taking the moment to blow a massive pink bubble from her mouth.  
  
Shepard, as smooth as ever, gracefully murmured, "How'd you guess?" With a smile, she added, "Just us two, please. And somewhere quieter would be preferred."  
  
The girl nodded, smacking her lips around the pink substance in her mouth. Garrus could not take his eyes off of the sight of the stuff.   It looked like she was chewing on a hanar.  
  
The girl – Rita, according to her name tag - led them to a table at the back and far away from the kitchen. There were only a few other patrons, all of which seemed intent on staring holes into Garrus' light armor.  
  
Shepard slid into the booth and Garrus took the seat opposite of her. Rita handed them both menus and asked, "What can I get y’all to drink?"  
  
"Coffee, black, and a water, please," Shepard requested with a friendly smile.  
  
"I'll pass," Garrus responded, sure that there was nothing dextro friendly on this menu. He was glad he and Shepard had grabbed some packaged dextro food at the space hub before leaving.  Unless they saw a big city in the near future, he was out of luck for fresh food.  
  
When Rita left the table, Garrus leaned in close to Shepard. "What was in her mouth?"  
  
Shepard smirked. "What do you think it was?" At Garrus' annoyed huff, Shepard laughed softly. "It's called bubble gum. It's flavored and chewy and fantastic if you are quitting cigarettes."  
  
Garrus looked taken aback. "Cigarettes?"  
  
"They're something you smoke – they have addictive stuff in them and can cause lung cancer. Not too many people smoke anymore and it's hard to come by the cigarettes nowadays. A lot of humans used to die from them."  
  
Garrus shook his head before covering it with a hand. "I don't think I will ever understand your species."  
  
Shepard nodded, sympathetic. "We're all crazy… some of us more so than others, of course."  
  
When Rita returned with Shepard's water, Shepard handed her the menus and requested something called w _affles_ and _eggs over easy_ with a side of _bacon._ Garrus decided not to ask about the food choices – the idea of cigarettes and bubble gum were still too boggling.  
  
"This place seems… poor," Garrus finally said, looking out the dirty window toward the parking lot. Small, furry creatures were skittering about, fighting over food scraps.  
  
Shepard nodded, her expression changing to something darker, something sadder. "That's what happens when you're forgotten."  She was silent for a time before adding, "You know we have the metropolises – New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, Vancouver…. Those are just a few, but it gives you an idea." Garrus nodded and Shepard continued, "Those cities were already hubs for intellectuals and geniuses. With the new advancements, the cities grew in wealthier and powerful. Cities with learning institutes did well, too – colleges have always been resources. But towns like this, where there were farmers and store owners.…" Shepard cracked a grin, but it did not look pleasant. "They fell behind or became obsolete in some cases. The rich got richer and the poor got poorer… and it's still happening."  
  
Rita came back with Shepard's food and Shepard offered her a real smile, thanking her. Shepard pushed her strange looking food around on the plate for a bit, taking small bites here and there. Garrus took the moment to get one of his food packets and tear into it, devouring the contents quickly.  He looked up in time to see that Shepard had stopped chewing and was watching him in mild amusement.  
  
Shepard was mostly interested in his food and not the ravenous way in which he ate it.  The packaged, squishy blob looked like peacock-colored flan, though she was sure it tasted nothing like the Spanish treat. She tucked into her eggs and bacon, and then moved onto the waffles, giving him time to eat in peace.

Her food tasted heavenly, which went to show how long it had been since she'd had a decent meal. Nothing but protein packs was enough to make scorched bacon and overcooked eggs taste divine.

Once they were finished eating, Shepard excused herself and went into the bathroom, taking her toiletry bag with her. When she returned, her light makeup was flawless and her chin-length bob of red hair was straight as a pin. Garrus was surprised when he found himself watching her pale, athletic body again - this time admiring her shapely thighs and how they moved beneath the very short shorts she wore.  
  
"I'm going to go pay," she told Garrus before turning, giving him ample opportunity to admire her backside, as well.  He had never been especially interested in humans - he found their thin skin and tiny bodies strange and sometimes hard to look at.  But something about Shepard was appealing.   _Perhaps it’s respect,_ Garrus thought. _It’s surely just respect.  I respect her._

When they left the restaurant, Garrus noticed that the pay terminal still had their bill on it.  Shepard had paid over five times the total amount.  As a tip, according to the terminal.

Garrus glanced at Shepard out of the corner of his eye. She looked content, her face lifted up to the sunlight.  
  
"You're a good person, Shepard," Garrus said finally.  
  
Shepard smiled, bumping him with her shoulder. "Oh yeah? Would I make a good turian?"  
  
Garrus barked out a laugh, unable to help it. "You'd make a lousy turian. You're too small, for one, and all of that hair! Why do you humans insist on having so much of it?"  
  
Shepard smirked, running a hand through her hair as she looked at him. "You're right; I'm too pretty to be a turian."  
  
Garrus smiled, something in his abdomen clenching as he watched her climb into the vehicle. Humans were such strange creatures, completely contradictory to what Garrus was raised to find normal and attractive. He had to admit, though, she was a staggering specimen when it came to her race.  
  
"Don't worry, Shepard," he groused, lowering himself into the vehicle, "I've heard that all humans suffer from these self-centered delusions."  
  
The car growled to life, drowning out Shepard's laughter.

* * *

  
The heat was getting unbearable, even for Garrus. "Shepard, how is it possible to feel like the air is drowning you?"  
  
Shepard had attempted to speed up to get more air circulation into the car, but the gas gauge was not enjoying the added speed. So, she had slowed back down to 65 and tried fanning herself with an old map she'd found in the back seat.  
  
"It's the summer humidity," she groaned. "I forgot how horrible it was down here. I've only been to the south once, but that was in the winter." Her black tank top kept sticking to her rather uncomfortably no matter how many times she pulled it away from her skin.  
  
Garrus leaned forward, fiddling with the controls on the console. "Can't any of these provide decent air?"  
  
"A/C's busted," Shepard sighed. She kept her eyes on the long stretch of abandoned road ahead, letting Garrus press buttons and flip switches on the console. Most of them did nothing – one of them made a horrible shrieking noise come out of the speakers, which Shepard explained was a popular type of music among young earthlings. Garrus quickly pressed the button again, making the noise stop. He wasn't sure what they had been yelling about, but it certainly didn't seem to be something worth putting out through airwaves.  
  
Sighing, Garrus leaned back in his seat. "I give up."

It was then that he noticed it – a small switch near Shepard's knee. He reached out, flicking the switch. Shepard jumped at his sudden proximity, eyes turning to him in surprise.  “Um, what-"

The car seemed to shudder and a loud screech filled the car. Shepard slammed on the breaks, jolting both herself and Garrus against the seat belts. The car continued to shake and moan – and then the top lifted up, up, and off.  
  
Wide-eyed, Garrus turned in his seat to see the hardtop being retracted into the back of the vehicle. Shepard looked just as startled, but also thrilled. She let out a triumphant whoop of glee. "It's a convertible!"  
  
Garrus decided not to ask. The vehicle has just lost its roof to some pit inside the car – but Shepard was laughing like mad and that made Garrus laugh, too. The two of them sat there, idling in the road, cackling to the sky.

* * *

  
"Kentucky!" Shepard exclaimed as they rolled past a sign that had lost most of its color. "This place is famous for its horses," she said, pointing out her side of the car. The evening air was warm, dark and moist but Garrus could still make out the large animals grazing in the field.  
  
"What are they used for?" Garrus asked, intrigued. It was quite fascinating seeing a new planet like this. They weren't there searching for mineral deposits or beacons or crash sites… simply driving. Garrus had never thought sitting in a cramped vehicle that smelled like chemicals and gasoline would be fun. But being with Shepard and seeing her unwind – it was turning out to be quite an adventure.  
  
"Well, they are used for riding or pulling. They are pack animals, or pets, or sometimes showmen. They have this big race every year where about 20 horses race around a big track and people bet on which one will win."  
  
Garrus frowned. "What’s the point?"  
  
Shepard snorted. "Is it any weirder than betting on varren races?  Anyway, the Kentucky Derby is more of a fashion statement than anything else now. More of the rich getting richer and throwing it in other people’s faces."  
  
Garrus nodded, wishing he hadn't brought it up. Shepard's mouth was tugging into the same frown that she had at breakfast. He opened his mouth to attempt changing the subject when something big and wet plopped onto his face.  
  
Shepard let out a strangled yelp, alerting Garrus that she must have felt it, too. "Rain!" she exclaimed, reaching for the switch at her knee. She flipped it quickly, already shaking at the cold raindrops falling onto her.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Garrus growled in frustration, attempting the switch. The car made a keening noise, and the back of the trunk lifted up slightly – but the roof did not return.  
  
The rain was becoming harder as it pounded down on them. Shepard was shivering in her thin clothing. "Garrus," she called over the howl of the storm quickly approaching, "I think we should find a motel or something!"  
  
"Agreed!" Garrus called back, feeling awful for Shepard. She looked like she was freezing to death.  
  
Luckily they came across a quaint barrack-style Inn a few miles down the road. Shepard pulled the car into a parking spot with a covered awning over it. She called for Garrus to grab the bags and follow her before she turned and ran toward the front door.  
  
Garrus met Shepard in the lobby where he found her holding a keycard and shivering. "I-is one room, two beds okay w-with you?" she asked through chattering teeth.  
  
Garrus nodded. "It's fine. Let's get you dry." He led his commander toward the stairs, Shepard muttering something about _room 215_ and _hot shower._  
  
They made it to their room without incident and Garrus let Shepard commandeer the bathroom so she could get warmed up. Garrus settled on one of the beds, enjoying the relatively firm mattress. In spite of the bed squealing under his weight, it would beat sleeping outside.  
  
After thirty long minutes of checking his extranet messages, the bathroom door opened and a thawed, relaxed Shepard poked her head out. "Hey, I forgot my bag and I need some clothes Can you be a gent and grab it for me?"  
  
Garrus was glad he couldn't blush or else he was sure he would have. Maybe sleeping outside _would_ have been better.  "Oh… oh, right, um… your bag. Clothes… you need those." He fumbled with their bags, finally grabbing hers. He slowly stepped toward her, head tilted to the side and away. "Here," he offered, thrusting the bag in her general direction.  
  
She didn’t seem to share his awkwardness.  He could hear her smirking as she murmured, “Aww, thanks, babe.  You sure you didn’t want to join me in here?”.  
  
“Hah hah, Shepard,” Garrus sighed deeply, going back to the bed. He tried not to think about how awkward things were now.  She was in the other room, just a small wall away, naked.  And he was sitting on a strange bed made for aliens, thinking about her being naked.

 _Pull yourself together!_ Garrus chided himself. _You're too old for this. There is nothing fascinating under the clothes – just round, soft, fleshy things._

And then the door opened again and Shepard emerged. She was covered with a pair of black, lacy panties and a bra. Although _covered_ wasn't quite the word to use.  Garrus could easily see the curve of Shepard's shapely rear and breasts through the tight, sheer material.  
  
Shepard wasn’t concerned, though.  She sauntered back into the room as if she was a model taking her turn on a skywalk.  She stopped in front of the mirror, her ass directly in front of Garrus, and began brushing her hair out.  She was humming something cheerful and seemed completely unaware of the distress she was inflicting on Garrus.  
  
"O-okay, I am going to be in the bathroom," Garrus said quickly, getting to his feet. "I, uh, I'm going to turn the light off. Don't want to give you nightmares about turians without armor," he tried to joke lamely.

She only smirked at him through the mirror, setting her brush down on the table in front of the mirror with a soft _click._

He flipped the light switch and disappeared into the bathroom, feeling his heart thundering in his chest. _Holy shit, Garrus,_ he thought, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. _You cannot do this. You cannot be attracted to Shepard. There are so many levels of how wrong that would be._  
  
Sighing, Garrus sank onto the toilet seat, hand buried in his hands. _Dad was right… I am a bad turian._


	3. Shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> The title song for this chapter is "Shake," by The Head and The Heart. Please enjoy!

**Day 3**

Shepard was sure it was close to dawn. It had to be.  
  
She almost called up her omni-tool to check the time but stopped when she realized that the light might wake Garrus. He had been asleep ever since his head hit the pillow – the sound of his steady breathing was the only thing relaxing about the room.  
  
The bed, for one, was too firm. The pillows were too flat. Her hip hurt, and she couldn’t stop wondering what, exactly, a turian without his armor would look  
  
As slowly and silently as she could, Shepard rolled onto her other side to look at the bedside clock.  The blinking orange numbers seemed to taunt her.  
  
_1:26 am_  
  
Shepard felt her heart sinking. 1:26? She'd been lying in bed for under an hour? How was that even possible?  
  
Shepard rolled onto her back, muttering, "I hate hotels."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Shepard nearly jumped out of her skin at the docile harmonics of Garrus' voice. "Are you awake?" she ventured gently, sounding embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."  
  
Garrus chuckled, the vibrato in his voice soothing. "No, I've been awake, too."  
  
Shepard turned back toward the turian, peering at his shadowy shape. The darkened room and her human eyesight made it hard to pinpoint, but she thought he might have been on his side, watching her. "So, what should we do about this?"  
  
Garrus appeared to shrug before murmuring, "Do you think…."  
  
"Hmmm?" Shepard groused, propping her head up on her hand.  
  
Garrus chuckled softly before responding, "Never mind. Change of subject: what do you think Joker has gotten himself into?"  
  
Shepard snorted. "He's either having the time of his life or he's in a ditch somewhere. Here's to hoping it's the former; I don't think Alliance brass would be too pleased with us leaving him to his own devices if it's the latter."  
  
Garrus thrummed his agreement and the room fell silent again. The cicadae outside buzzed loudly, a reminder of the previous night spent outdoors under the stars.  
  
"I'm just going to say this and get it out there," Garrus finally alleged, sounding exasperated. "I am somehow exceedingly uncomfortable being so close and yet so far away from you."  
  
Shepard let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "I know what you mean." She got to her feet, moving the cheap bedside table out of the way. She then pushed her bed over toward Garrus', the wood legs making a horrible screeching noise as they slid over the tile floor. Shepard plopped back into bed, snuggling under the covers. She was already a million times more comfortable.  
  
Shepard felt more than heard Garrus chuckle. "Much better."  
  
Shepard nodded before yawning. "Just remember, if I catch you copping a feel, you're losing a hand."  
  
"You're safe with me, Shepard."  
  
Shepard's eyes slowly drifted closed. "I know," she whispered, more to herself than him.

* * *

  
Garrus awoke in a painfully awkward position.  
  
At first, he thought he had gotten his leg wrapped up in sheets. Sleepily, he reached down to pull the clingy blanket off. Instead of fabric, his three-fingered hand enclosed on a firm, muscled thigh. Garrus' eyes shot open and he tried to quickly and quietly take in his surroundings.  
  
He was still in the hotel room. The pillow was still under his head, though the pillowcase showed signs of his talons and fringe ripping the thin fabric throughout the night. And then… he looked down and saw the leg.  
  
It was pale, shapely, and obviously human. Garrus felt something very akin to horror creep up inside him. _Oh spirits, she is going to kill me if she wakes up to this._  
  
Garrus gently raised himself up and turned his head, glancing behind him just to be sure. There was his commander, her human face and body coiled around him, her mouth parted slightly in sleep. The black strap of her bra had slipped down her arm, and Garrus could now see small, dark brown splotches along her shoulders. As he took in all of these small details about the commander, she began to stir.  
  
_Kill me now._ Garrus quickly disentangled himself from her limb, trying to be as careful as possible not to poke her with his knee spurs or jutting hipbones. The thin turian pants he wore to bed were not designed to protect humans from harm.  
  
Glancing down, he also noticed they weren't designed to hide excitement, either. _Embarrassed_ was nowhere close to what he was feeling right then… mortification might have been pretty accurate, but still not quite strong enough.  
  
The commander's stirring became more aggressive – her arms stretched out above her head and she let out a strange, strangled noise. Any second she would be opening her eyes to see her best friend standing above her with a raging erection.  
  
Garrus turned and did the only thing he could think of – he fled to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.  
  
Breathing deeply, Garrus counted backward from twenty.  He tried to focus on his abdominal plates, to call his erection back inside of himself, to not make things more awkward than they already were.

He couldn't help the fact that, in his sleep, he had mistaken him very human commander for a turian. He couldn't help the fact that his body reacted after so long denied.

But Garrus also couldn't help the fact that he knew, deep down, it wasn't a faceless turian that had riled him up.  
  
He heard Shepard moving around in the bed – she was yawning and grumbling. Then she stood, or so it sounded, and padded closer and closer.  
  
There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Garrus?" Shepard asked, her voice laced with sleep. "Are you in there?"  
  
Garrus glanced down at his nether regions; there hadn't been much change in his situation.  
  
"Garrus?" Shepard asked again. Her voice sounded a bit concerned now. She jiggled the handle and then sighed. "Seriously, Garrus, are you okay?"  
  
"Y-yeah," Garrus stumbled over his words, panic making his throat thick. "I'm just, uh…." His brain seemed to shut off, all of the blood in his body being redirected southward.  
  
He heard Shepard laugh from the other side of the door. "God, Garrus, just say you're taking a shit. Hurry it up, though, I really need to pee."  
  
And that was that – Shepard walked back toward the bed, still chuckling, and left Garrus to silently thank the spirits.

* * *

"50,000 credits."  
  
Shepard nearly spit her coffee on the mechanic in front of her. She remembered to swallow before sputtering, "What? I only paid 1,500 credits for the entire car!"  
  
The mechanic looked at her balefully. "Lady, you only paid 1,500 credits for the car 'cause it's a piece of junk. It's miraculous the damn thing made it this far without exploding." He glanced toward the turian in blue face paint before adding, "I'll knock it down to 10,000 credits if I can get that rifle in the trunk."  
  
It was Shepard's turn to look menacing. "That rifle is easily worth more than this entire lot. Now, why don't you explain to me why it is you're going to charge me 50,000 credits to get the roof back on?"  
  
The mechanic shrugged. "Alright, let me put it in layman's terms for ya, lady. You got a hardtop convertible. Follow me?" he asked condescendingly. Shepard narrowed her eyes, which the mechanic took to mean _yes._  "All right. Now, these hardtops are mean sonsabitches. The whole way this works is that the trunk pulls upward, exposing a cabin on the underbelly of the car. The top folds in on panels, see, and gets sucked on down into the cabin. Then the trunk plops back down and you go on your merry way."  
  
Shepard nodded. "Okay. So explain to me why I have to pay 50,000 for you to fix that."  
  
The mechanic sighed heavily as if he was speaking with the most idiotic person he'd ever met. "Maybe I should talk to your boyfriend. That is a boy, ain't it? Can never tell with those aliens."  
  
Garrus glanced up from where he had been perusing the junk heap nearby. He pointed to his chest comically, as if caught off guard. Shepard cracked a smile. "Believe me, you'll want to talk to me."  
  
The mechanic raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off. "I'm gonna have to basically tear the entire back end of this thing off. Not to mention I don't have parts for something this old. I'll have to order the parts and pay a shit-ton of money. This is an old-as-dirt Mustang GT. No one but serious collectors have the 2087 parts anymore. But if you're looking to save some credits, I can try to build a new contraption from scraps."  
  
"How long would these options take?" Shepard asked, sighing.  
  
"Well… the parts would take at least a week to get in. Rebuilding would be about five days."  
  
Garrus stepped closer, looking over at Shepard. "We don't have that kind of time. Should we just buy a new one?" he ventured.  
  
Shepard shook her head vehemently. "No, I want this one… we just need to improvise."  
  
The mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Improvise? What do you plan on doing, strapping a tarp to the top of the car and driving around like that?" The mechanic and Garrus saw the gleam in Shepard's eye and knew that was exactly what she planned on doing. Sighing, the mechanic grumbled, "Go take a look inside. I'm sure we got something you can use for struts to support the damn thing, too."

* * *

 

It took close to the entire day to get the car in working order again. Shepard and Garrus stepped back to admire their handiwork. The once blue - now so rusted and worn it was hard to determine the color - vehicle featured silver scrap metal support struts for a roof. They were covered with clear, rubbery polyurethane sheeting.  
  
"I haven't seen many Earth vehicles," Garrus began, "but I am pretty sure this is the ugliest in existence."  
  
Shepard was grinning like a schoolgirl. "This is the best thing I've ever done with my hands." At Garrus' questioning look, she added, "Well, okay, maybe not the best. But this is pretty cool."  
  
Her smile was infectious. Garrus chuckled before opening the driver's side door for her. "What do you say we get out of Kentucky?"  
  
Shepard slid behind the driver's seat. "I concur."

* * *

**Day 4**

They drove through a good portion of the night, even though Garrus had attempted to convince Shepard to pull over a handful of times. She kept waving her hand vaguely, muttering about wanting to get to some place called _Branson_ in time for breakfast.  
  
"Where are we, anyway?" Garrus grumbled. Turians only needed a few hours of sleep each night, but even so, they liked having regular sleep schedules.  This trip had been hell on his.  
  
"Missouri," Shepard responded, nodding her head while she hummed to herself. Her voice was clear and bright, untrained and slightly off key, but the sound of it began to sooth his grouchiness. "Branson will have lots of stuff for you, by the way. The city became a huge tourist trap for intergalactic species wanting to see what the human's wild west was all about. The saddest part is, Branson is nothing close to the wild west - it's a mountain town. But oh well, the aliens don't know the difference."  
  
"Wild west?" Garrus repeated.  
  
Shepard grinned. "Remember that vid Joker, Ash and I made you watch with us? The one with the gunslingers and weird clothing?"  
  
Garrus chuckled. He hadn't thought about that in a while. If he remembered correctly, the commander and Ashley had gotten pretty drunk on levo-tequila and began singing the lines halfway through the movie. "I remember. The _"You're not wearing a bustle"_ one, right?"  
  
Shepard's laughter was close to a cackle. "You remember that?"  
  
"Only because you and Ashley kept singing the line over and over. And then Joker attempted to find out if Ashley was wearing a bustle. And no one would tell me what a bustle was, either."  
  
Shepard was definitely cackling. "Oh God, that's right… shit, I had the worst headache the next morning." Her laughter slowly died, and she added somberly, "We've never talked about it. You know… Ash."  
  
Garrus felt the mood shift dramatically. Shepard's tone was still amicable, but he felt the sadness radiating off of her. "She was one of a kind," Garrus murmured softly.  
  
Shepard nodded. "Damn right she was. I still think about her… I've almost sent her a message about four times since she died," she added, a mirthless laugh slipping out. "I just… I miss her. I haven't cleaned out her footlocker, you know. I haven't had the heart to… to touch her things."  
  
Shepard's right hand was on her thigh, the fingers curling in on themselves. Garrus reached out hesitantly, covering her hand with his. Her fingers shifted and her hand was gripping his in an instant. The five fingers seemed so strange around his three, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Garrus squeezed her hand gently, rumbling low, "You don't have to do it alone, you know. If you need me to help you…" he then broke off before adding quickly, "or Kaidan would help, I’m sure. He was close with Ashley."  
  
Shepard nodded, eyes never leaving the road. After a few moments, she murmured, "Just between you and me… I'd rather have you there with me."  
  
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, amazed by her strength. Squeezing her hand gently again, he intoned, "I'll be there, no matter what."


	4. Temporary Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is, "Temporary Love," by The Brinks. Enjoy!

**Day 4**

Branson was a smorgasbord of things. Shepard had always overheard stories about it when she was a kid. Wealthy women would pass by between shops, ignoring the urchins hiding in the alleyways and shadows.  They would talk loudly, twittering about their vacation to Branson.   _ They added a holographic ape to the top of the Marquis Hotel!  It’s just  _ so  _ frivolous, I love it! _   
  
As a child, Shepard would go to bed at night, huddled with other street rats, and dream of this magical place. Anything could happen in Branson – the lights never went off there. The music was as eclectic as it was unusual. The fashion was futuristic vogue and always over the top. She wouldn't have to beg and steal and sleep on the streets in Branson. Some wealthy family would see her and fall in love with her innocent face and bright green eyes. 

But she had never made it there.

Had Garrus known this was a childhood fantasy about to come true, he might have been a little nicer about being woken up at 7 am after only an hour of sleep. As it was, he was prodded into wakefulness by an utterly gleeful Shepard. "Come on, let's get breakfast! I have the perfect spot picked out!"   
  
Garrus grumbled, grabbing a few packets of food to take along. He got out of the cramped car and glanced around. He blinked a few times, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.   
  
They were in a paved parking lot, as he expected. What he did not expect was the sheer amount of hover vehicles in the parking lot. Not to mention the droves of asari that seemed to flock toward the restaurant. A handful of turians and salarians were milling about, though they seemed to be drowning in a crowd of blue faces. There were hardly any humans to speak of.   
  
Garrus glanced over at Shepard who looked pleased with his surprise. "I told you Branson caters to the intergalactic species. Come on; I am starving and I am sure you’re ready for a real meal."   
  
Garrus tossed his packaged food back into the car before quickly following after Shepard. She wasn't hard to keep up with – she was one of the only humans, for one, and her shimmering hair was like a bonfire.   
  
Inside, the restaurant was full of bric-a-brac. There were all kinds of strange looking, wooden contraptions hanging from the walls and ceiling. A few of the items looked extremely dangerous, too.  The staff seemed to move through the chaos of people and hanging deathtraps with ease. They were all human; all in good physical condition, young, fresh-faced, and wearing frilly orange aprons.   
  
"There's no way we're getting a table here," Garrus murmured to Shepard. "It will be dinner before we get seated."   
  
Shepard grinned coyly. "Ye of little faith," she intoned. Shepard walked right up to the hostess and murmured, "I made a reservation – it's under the name Shepard."   
  
The hostess' eyes were as big as saucers. "Oh my goodness, they told us you were coming but we didn't know for sure.…"  Her voice trailed off before she giggled. "Can I get your autograph on my apron, Commander?"   
  
Shepard was never great with fans, but she gave the girl a patient smile and took the offered marker, signing her name neatly on the orange apron. "Now, how about that table?"   
  
The girl smiled charmingly, grabbing two menus and bobbing in a small curtsy. "Right this way, folks!"   
  
Garrus shook his head in mild disbelief before following the women toward their reserved table. The wood table was in the back corner, overlooking the beautiful mountain range. It was also, Garrus noticed, the most secluded table in the place.   
  
"Your server will be right with you!" the hostess chirped before turning back to her post by the door.   
  
"You reserved a table?" Garrus asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.   
  
Shepard laughed, moving her chair closer to his so that she could look out the window, as well. “Of course I did.  I called it in before we even left the Citadel.  Granted, it was a reservation for one then, but...."   
  
Garrus made a strained noise in the back of his throat, misunderstanding. “I can wait in the car-"   
  
Shepard’s face shifted, suddenly concerned.  “What?  Garrus, no!  I just meant… I don’t know what I meant.  I want you here with me, though.”  Her hand reached out toward his knee, gently caressing the top of his gloved hand.   
  
Garrus felt something warm and uncomfortably delicious curling in his abdomen at her words, at the tender expression on her face.

A young human came to the table and saved Garrus from saying anything.  The young woman looked flustered. "Welcome to Billy Gail's Café, my name is Alisha. Can I get some drinks started for you?"

Shepard pulled her hand back from his, seeming reluctant to do so, and turned her soft smile to Alisha. "I'll have a glass of orange juice, please."    
  
The girl nodded, writing on her notepad. "And you, sir?"   
  
Garrus glanced at the menu, glad to see a huge section for dextro-based races. He ordered a simple glass of gerdenk, a popular morning drink that most resembled levo-coffee. The girl nodded, writing it down, before offering them a hesitant smile. "I'll be back with your drinks in a moment."   
  
After she left, Garrus glanced around at the surrounding tables. A lot of the other occupants were glancing over at them; a few even looked like they were taking pictures on their omni-tools.   
  
"I think you've been spotted, Shepard," Garrus murmured in an undertone.   
  
Shepard smiled. "I actually think it's you they recognize. What with the armor, face paint, and stunning good looks, it would be hard not to," she added, winking. "Maybe we should go shopping for some civilian clothes for you after breakfast? I am sure they have a million shops between here and Stone Hill."   
  
"Stone Hill?" Garrus repeated questioningly.   
  
"Mmhmm," Shepard nodded. "It's a winery. There was a revamp a couple decades ago.  Now they specialize in turian stills." She wiggled her eyebrows with a grin, which made Garrus smirk.  “Maybe we should have a drink-off.”   
  
"Trying to get me drunk, Commander?"   
  
Shepard grinned. "No comment?"   
  
Their waitress returned with the drinks. "Alright, what are we going to be eating today?"   
  
Garrus had been so caught up in his banter with Shepard that he'd forgotten to look at the menu. He scanned over the food section while Shepard ordered. When the waitress turned to him, he ordered the first thing that looked mildly appetizing. It was a Palaven favorite; stewed vakleb meat drizzled in pepayl sauce. It had been quite a while since Garrus had eaten anything so turian.   
  
Shepard was staring at Garrus strangely after the waitress left the table. "You know," she began slowly, "I have determined that there is one huge flaw in our friendship."   
  
Garrus swallowed a gulp of his scalding drink, unsure where she was planning to go with her statement.  "And that would be?"   
  
Shepard paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate. "We can't eat the same foods."   
  
Garrus laughed, feeling suddenly relieved.  _ "That's _ the major flaw?"   
  
Shepard shrugged, sipping her orange juice with a smile. "Yeah. Otherwise, we're pretty much perfect together."   
  


* * *

  
The Stone Hill Winery was even larger and more cavernous than Shepard had expected. It was also filled to the brimming with asari, all in varying states of drunkenness. Shepard wouldn’t have paid any attention to it, except for the fact that two tittering asari were watching Garrus with hungry eyes.

Garrus, to his credit, either didn’t notice their staring or didn’t care.  He seemed entranced with looking at all of the dextro stills on sale, walking between the aisles in his gorgeous black civilian tunic and pants, looking comfortable and at home.  

Shepard went to join him, glancing back at the asari as she took Garrus’ hand in hers, leaning into him. “The next tour is starting soon.  You ready?”   
  
"Tour?" Garrus asked, mandibles flaring. He didn’t pull away from her; in fact, he wrapped an arm around her waist.  It was hesitant but firm and made Shepard’s chest flutter.  "I thought we were here to drink."   
  
Shepard snorted back her laughter, a hand rising to caress across his cowl softly.  She wasn’t sure which was stronger - her urge to touch him or her urge to make the asari stop looking at him.  "You need to go on a tour first. They'll bore us to death for about 30 minutes, then get us nice and tipsy, then send us out to buy tons of wine."   
  
Garrus chuckled as Shepard led him into a dark, cold room that felt like a cellar. There were seats lined up around the room and a projection drone humming idly in the center of the room. Garrus and Shepard found two unoccupied seats and sat down.   
  
"You sound like you've done this a few times," Garrus murmured, leaning in close to Shepard so that they were not overheard. He caught her scent, so familiar but still exotic. Females of his own species only carried a scent when they were ready to mate.   
  
Shepard turned to him, her lips close to his jaw. "A few. I was a bad kid before I joined up with the Alliance," she whispered, voice laced with something Garrus couldn't quite place. What he could place, however, is how her breath on the unprotected, leathery skin of his neck made something inside of him flare to life.   
  
Garrus swallowed, trying to remember what they were talking about. "You were? I've never seen anything about your childhood on the vids."   
  
Shepard only smiled, returning, "Maybe you can get me drunk enough to tell you about it." She pulled away right as the projector drone lit up, casting a bright vid on the wall.   
  


* * *

  
Garrus opened the door just in time for Shepard to barrel into the hotel room, her laughter seeming to make her lightheaded. "And so then," she continued with her story, cheeks flushed, "Kaidan is standing over this smoking hole in the deck like he's trying to figure out how to tell Anderson he'd just killed me and ruined the Crew Quarters!"   
  
Garrus couldn't help laughing a bit louder than was necessary. The wine was something else. The pair had downed every sample the winery attendants had been offered to them and then went on to buy three bottles of wine for each of them.   
  
They spent the afternoon and evening walking down the streets of Branson, swigging wine and comparing war stories. They even went shopping.  Garrus and Shepard had both picked up new sets of clothing and Shepard spent more credit than Garrus could fathom on things called sunglasses.   
  
They finally found themselves outside of a fantastic hotel on a hill, surrounded by ponds and a small waterfall. "It reminds me of Palaven," Garrus had said, gaping at the lush green landscaping, the black sand, and the rushing water.   
  
"Then this is where we sleep," Shepard had alleged, scampering up the hill toward the hotel.   
  
They had decided to bunk together again and, to Garrus' surprise, Shepard requested a single bed. It made sense, seeing as they ended up sleeping together before.  Even so, the implication of  _ one bed _ was slightly startling.  Slightly concerning.  

And entirely arousing. 

Shepard seemed to not notice the curious glance the lady behind the desk gave them as if wondering how their kind of interspecies relationship worked.   
  
Garrus had thought about confronting Shepard about it. The longer their trip went on, the more Garrus felt that it was messing up his feelings and he wasn't sure if it was legitimate or not. He knew he shouldn't feel amorously toward his commanding officer -  _ former  _ commanding officer. He knew that she was probably uninterested in having a turian lover. Not to mention they were best friends… why risk that when they worked so perfectly together?   
  
Garrus took a long swig of his dextro wine, grimacing at the slightly harsh aftertaste. "What about Kaidan, Shepard?" Garrus said suddenly, surprising even himself.   
  
Shepard flung herself onto the bed, her wine bottle left on the night stand. "What about him?" she asked, stretching out. Garrus watched her shirt ride up over her lean stomach and knew what came out next would be a mistake.   
  
"Are you two close?"   
  
Shepard tilted her head to the side. She didn't bother to readjust her shirt. "What do you mean?" she asked, seeming genuinely confused.   
  
"Have you fucked?"   
  
Garrus wanted to take it back the second it left his mouth. He was fairly sure he had never even used the word before - certainly not to a commanding officer, friend or otherwise. He took another swig of wine before collapsing into the chair by the window. He heard the faint gurgle of water from the pond outside and wished the floor would swallow him whole.   
  
Shepard's face would be comical if Garrus wasn't worried she might shoot his kneecaps. Her eyes were wide and her mouth had dropped open. But then, suddenly, she was laughing. It was a high, keening laugh, as though she had just been told she'd won a vacation house on a planet of her choice.   
  
"Well that's super personal," she snorted, grabbing her wine. She finished off the bottle before tossing it toward the trashcan. She missed horribly but didn't seem to notice as it rolled away under the couch.   
  
Garrus felt himself relax at her laughter, but he was still curious. "Well?"   
  
Shepard sighed deeply, seeming vaguely annoyed. "This is silly. I don't want to talk about this."   
  
Garrus shrugged. "He always seemed to have a thing for you. You too got pretty close there after Virmire."   
  
"Garrus, let's talk about something else," Shepard said, her tone suddenly sharp. 

Shepard’s face did an interesting thing when she was upset - she went blank.  The phenomenon was nicknamed _ the Commander Shepard facade _ by the Normandy crew, and it would slide over her face, masking her emotions.  It was unsettling for Garrus to see, especially when he was on the receiving end of it.

Garrus came to sit beside Shepard on the bed, finishing off his wine. Her expression told him to drop it, and so he decided to drop it.  

Besides. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know.  Everyone knew.  Their commander had a potentially temporary -  _ very _ temporary - love with Kaidan Alenko.  He changed the topic, though, giving Shepard a reprieve.  "How old are you?"

She glanced over at him, her right eyebrow raised, lips twitched into a half smile. "Why, Vakarian? Looking for a young human bride?" She smirked at his look of shock and added, "Twenty-nine."   
  
"Do you ever think about settling down?" he probed. "Maybe have little Shepards running around?"   
  
Shepard shrugged. "I guess. Eventually. I don't know, Garrus. I just… I feel like it would be selfish to replicate little copies of me when there are so many orphans out there… on the street."   
  
Garrus caught the shift in her tone. He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her fingers squeezed his tightly as she murmured, "I used to run in a gang when I was younger." Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial. "There was really no choice back then. If you were born in the slums, you either died fighting it or joined it. After my mom died, I…" her voice faltered. "I was really young.  I relied on the others.  They took care of me… for a cut of my profits.  And… for other things. But it was the only family I really grew up knowing."   
  
"I didn't know," Garrus whispered.   
  
Shepard nodded. "The Alliance brass wanted it that way. They sealed my records. No one wanted it to get out that I had a rap sheet back on Earth."   
  
"A rap sheet?"   
  
Shepard pulled her hand gently away from Garrus, only to turn her arm upward. It was then that Garrus saw them – two small tattoos were scratched into the underside of her right bicep. They were both identical, featuring some kind of square shape with strange letters surrounding it.   
  
"It's a prison stamp," she confided. "I was taken in for assault on an officer here," she pointed to the top one, "and then attempted murder here." Her finger lowered to the second tattoo. Her voice was level, lacking any real emotion. "A third one meant I was in for life."   
  
Garrus couldn't pretend that he wasn't surprised to learn of this. He would have never expected it from his controlled, patient commander. He gently reached out, touching the smooth scar tissue of the tattoos. "You were young and did what you had to," Garrus murmured.   
  
Shepard smiled softly. "Yeah. I keep thinking if I tell myself that long enough, I might start to believe it." She stood, wandering into the bathroom, and started the shower without another word.   
  
Garrus turned off the lights and began to get ready for bed. He changed quickly into his night pants, putting his civilian clothes in a neat pile on the nightstand. He sank into the bed, trying not to worry about Shepard's last words.   
  
When Shepard finished with her shower, she slipped into bed, clad only in white lace underwear, and immediately curled herself against Garrus’ front. She must have felt him stiffen because she murmured, “I can back off.  If you want.”

Garrus knew he should have said yes.  But instead, he caressed a talon gently over her jaw and said, “No.  Stay.”

They were silent for a few moments before Shepard whispered, "I want to believe I am a good person. I want to atone for the things I’ve done."

Garrus wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. He felt her shoulders shudder and heard the telltale sniffles of a crying woman. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Garrus tightened his grip, running two fingers through her tangled, wet hair. "You are the best damn person I have ever met, Shepard. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."   
  
Shepard's sniffles turned into a giggle as she whispered, "I just realized… I am sounding a lot like Kaidan right now."   
  
Garrus groaned. "Please never say that when I’m holding you."   
  
Shepard's laughter filled the room as she snuggled closer to him, her head cradled against his chest.  “You plan on holding me often, Vakarian?”

He knew she could hear him swallow past the lump in his throat, but he tried to play it cool.  It was a losing battle.  “I don’t know, Shepard.  I guess it all depends on if you keep falling to pieces.”

She snorted and smacked his cowl before settling in, her face pressing into his neck.   



	5. Say It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is, "Say It Ain't So," by Weezer. Enjoy!

**Day 5**

Garrus awoke to the sound of his omni-tool buzzing. His earpiece chirped, alerting him that it was an incoming call. Groggily, Garrus glanced around the room.  The glimmer of luxury looked serene bathed in afternoon sunlight.

Except for the bed.

The coverlet had been haphazardly shoved to the bottom of the mattress, the sheet a tangled mess around Shepard's still sleeping body.

Groaning, Garrus reached up and pressed the small receiver on his earpiece, accepting the call. "Vakarian," he grumbled. It had been a long time since he'd had enough alcohol to make him this hung over.   
  
"Would you mind telling Shepard to answer her damn pings?"   
  
Garrus blinked, confused. "Who is this?"   
  
There was an exasperated sigh from the other end. "It's Kaidan. I've been trying to get a hold of Shepard."   
  
Garrus nodded before realizing the other man couldn't see him.  He wasn’t sure how to handle the impending confrontation - how do one talk to the boyfriend - fuck buddy? - of the woman one has been sleeping beside for the past four days?  "Uh, sure, once I see her I'll let her know."   
  
There was a long silence from the other end before Kaidan muttered acidly, "Right." 

The line disconnected.

Garrus sighed, not wanting to wake Shepard but feeling like it must have been something important for Kaidan to stoop to contacting Garrus. He gently reached out, shaking Shepard’s shoulder. "Hey... Shepard?"   
  
Shepard groaned softly, rolling onto her back. Her eyelids slid open and he was met with the most disoriented, but startlingly beautiful, green eyes. She grinned at him, reaching up to rub at her eyes. "Morning," she greeted.   
  
"Kaidan called me," Garrus told her. "He said he's been trying to ping you all morning."   
  
Shepard's smile turned into something that could only be described as a pout. "What does he want? And how did he know you were with me?" she added, almost as an afterthought. She pulled up her omni-tool's interface, glancing over her messages. "Damn, he wasn't kidding about trying to reach me all morning."   
  
She tapped a few things into the omni-tool - Garrus was guessing a reply to one of Kaidan’s pings. Right after sending it, her omni-tool lit up with a call. Shepard rolled her eyes, grabbed her earpiece from the bedside table, and murmured, "Good morning, Kaidan."   
  
"Good morning?" Kaidan repeated. "It's afternoon in the northern hemisphere. What have you been doing?"   
  
Shepard frowned. He was talking so loudly and so harshly that Garrus could even hear him.  He sounded pissed. 

"Sleeping. It's shore leave, I'm entitled to some rest, right?"

Kaidan scoffed on the other end. His voice seemed to be rising. "Look, Shepard, I don't know what you're playing at with this publicity stunt-"   
  
Shepard's calm and collected exterior was beginning to chip away at his tone. "What?  Kaidan, what are you even talking about?"   
  
Kaidan's laugh was sour. "You’re seriously going to play innocent with me right now?"   
  
"Spit it out or I am hanging up." Shepard snapped.  She was tearing at her nail beds as she talked, causing blood to spring up around the corners of her nails.  Garrus watched the strange blood - so red, just like her hair - before reaching out to grab her hands, to stop the self-destructive behavior in its tracks.

Shepard frowned at him but her fingers stopped flitting and picking.

Kaidan took a deep breath as if he was trying to compose himself. "Your picture has been all over the vids today, Shepard. Pictures of your vacation on Earth."   
  
Shepard sighed. "Okay...and?"   
  
"Look, you might not care how driving around Earth with a turian might look to others, but I do! You're jeopardizing humanity's image! The turians don't like this any more than the humans do, so just cut your losses and drop the act."   
  
Shepard sat in shell-shocked silence for a moment. "There is no act, Kaidan. Friends go on vacation together all the time."   
  
She heard Kaidan let out a few choice curses before growling, "Last I checked, friends don't share a king-size in their hotel room, Shepard." He let that sink in before adding in a more gentle tone, "Look, I got a call from Udina this morning, requesting I reel you in. I'm flying into Vancouver tonight. I am asking you to not make this harder than it already is... meet me in Vancouver tomorrow morning."   
  
The call dropped. Shepard looked up at Garrus, whose face was carefully neutral. "Well," she began softly, "it seems like we've caused quite the fuss."   
  
Shepard's omni-tool buzzed again, but this time with a ping. Shepard pulled up the message and murmured, "Kaidan sent us a vid. He wants to meet us in Vancouver and take us back to the Citadel." She moved so that Garrus had access to see the file as she pulled it up. "Evidently, rumors are flying about us." The file buffered swiftly before displaying a self-satisfied reporter Shepard was all too familiar with.   
  
"Good morning, galaxy - Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani with Westerlund News reporting. We've all heard the rumors circulating about Commander Shepard, savior of the Citadel and the first human Spectre. Has she really been seen cavorting around Earth with a turian lover? These shocking photos seem to be all the proof we need. Special thanks to all of our viewer submissions; you've caught quite a few gems."   
  
Al-Jilani's face faded and was replaced with photos of Shepard and Garrus. There were all from the prior day, it seemed.  There was a picture of Shepard signing the waitress' apron, another was of Shepard and Garrus having breakfast, sitting close together and looking out over the Ozark mountain range. A few photos filtered by of them drinking wine at Stone Hill, and then more of their drunken merrymaking in the streets of Branson. The final photo showcased Garrus holding a hotel room door open for a laughing Shepard. It looked like it had been pulled straight from a security camera.   
  
Shepard shut off the vid before al-Jilani could say any more. She glanced up at Garrus who seemed just as abashed as she felt. "I am so sorry," Shepard murmured.   
  
Garrus shrugged. "I can see why Kaidan was angry. It’s kind of a blow to his pride, after all."   
  
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"   
  
Garrus' mandibles flicked out and against his jaws, clacking as they did. "Well, now it's public knowledge that I am the more attractive choice."   
  
Shepard laughed, seeming startled and impressed at his lack of concern. "Are you sure... you're not mad? What about your family?"   
  
Garrus shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. "My family already thinks I am a failure as a turian. And I'm not mad. Hell, I thought we looked good together... happy," he amended, suddenly embarrassed. "So who cares what everyone else says? They can't revoke your Spectre status because of having a relationship with another species."   
  
Shepard smiled faintly. "Yeah... plus, it pisses Udina off," she added, making Garrus chuckle. She climbed out of the bed, standing in her underwear.  She stretched, her arms going above her head, her torso extending, muscles lengthening.  Garrus watched the sunlight spatter across her skin, making it glow wherever it touched.

He was transfixed.  He didn’t look up until Shepard said, "I'm going to take a shower. Want to head out in thirty minutes?"

Garrus’ eyes rose to hers and he was both relieved and horrified to find that she had been watching him admire her body.  And she was smiling about it.  Garrus cleared his throat and nodded, trying to find his cool. "To hell with Kaidan.  We'll get to Vancouver when we damn well feel like it."   
  


* * *

  
"Now  _ this  _ is the wild west," Shepard alleged proudly as they rolled in the desert mountain town of Deadwood, South Dakota.  "This is where Bill Hickok lost his life, you know." Garrus' expression of bewilderment earned another grin from the commander. "He was a gunslinger in weird clothing," she explained. "He came here to start panning for gold in the river but ended up getting sloppy drunk every night while playing poker."   
  
"Is gambling that much of a problem with humans?" he asked, seeming intrigued. "I heard your species never does things in moderation, but I didn't quite believe it. Then again, you're one of the few humans I've known well enough to study."   
  
Shepard cruised down Main Street, the open windows whipping her loose hair around her face. Her sunglasses, large dark lenses as big as drell eyes, made it hard to distinguish her expression. She seemed to be pleased with his assessment, though, and retorted, "Well, when I was younger I believed I was entitled to do things in excess. It always ended up biting me in the ass, though. So, I decided to slow it down and moderate. Now I'm exactly where I want to be.  Well… I might drink a bit too much,” she admitted.   
  
Garrus chuckled. "Did you ever think you would become a Spectre?"   
  
Shepard snorted. "You kidding me? Even when Anderson told me I was being evaluated, I thought there was no way in hell I had any chance. Not to mention a turian was evaluating me... no offense," she added with a grin.   
  
Garrus shrugged. "I won't deny our races still have problems playing nice. I guess that's why everyone is so up in arms over us."   
  
Shepard nodded briefly before turning the car into a parking lot. "We're here!" she announced, her enthusiasm seeming a little forced. "The Gem Theater. The best cards, drinks, and women in Deadwood."   
  
Garrus would have laughed if he hadn't spotted a young human woman hanging out of a window, blowing kisses at men as they walked by. "Shepard?" Garrus asked, making her name a question. He slowly stepped out of the car, seeming concerned. "Do I need to worry?"   
  
Shepard's grin was ear-to-ear now. "Aww, Garrus, afraid of the ladies?"   
  
Garrus followed Shepard into the saloon, through the garish décor and haze of perfume. Garrus, with his keen sense of smell, could distinguish each and every different chemical production scenting the human women's bodies. 

The women were dressed quite provocatively, skirts held high and cleavage nearly tumbling out of their tops.  It was over the top and made Garrus strangely nervous.  There was something less wholesome, less sensual about these women’s lack of clothing than Shepard’s.

"That," Shepard began, pointing to one woman's straining top, "is a corset and that," she added, pointing to the woman's expansive rear, "is a bustle."   
  
Garrus' eyes widened. "Why would anyone wear something that did that?"   
  
Shepard smirked. "Well, my turian friend, most human males find it attractive. At least, they did back in the ancient days." She winked before wandering over to a table where a group of turian tourists were playing poker. She hopped into one of the free seats, transferring credits onto the holographic table in front of her.   
  
Garrus came to stand beside her, watching her keenly. She was dealt into the next game and coolly played her cards just right. She was a fantastic bluffer – she'd already won 1,500 credits just by gradually raising the table, nothing but a 7, 2 off suit in hand.   
  
After a few games, most of which she won, she folded and nodded to the dealer, who released her winnings to her with a small smile. If Garrus had to guess, the dealer rarely saw another human have a better poker face than a table full of turians.   
  
"Well, Garrus Vakarian, I think I just won our dinner money," Shepard grinned, a decided hop in her step. "What do you say we sample a few drinks?"   
  
Garrus groaned. "After last night, a drink is the last thing on my mind. What else you got?"   
  
"Lightweight," Shepard teased, flouncing out into the crowded street. The two walked together, arm-in-arm, through throngs of tourists.  They watched the frantic visitors dart from here to there, window-shopping and perusing old trinkets. 

It was becoming nightfall and Garrus' stomach was growling when Shepard stopped so suddenly it felt like she had almost dislocated his shoulder.   
  
"What is it?" Garrus asked, concern clogging his throat.   
  
Shepard got a mischievous grin which set Garrus’ mind at ease.  "Garrus… I want a few photos of us. Would you agree to that?"   
  
Garrus knew there was something the commander was omitting. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked cautiously.   
  
Shepard looked impatient. "Yes or no?"   
  
Garrus finally nodded. "Yes. I would agree to that."   
  
Shepard's smile filled her face as she grabbed his arm, dragging him into a shopping outlet. "I knew you'd say yes.You’re definitely not going to like it, though."   
  
"What is it, Shepard?"   
  
Shepard didn't answer as she dragged him along. She finally came to a stop outside of a rustic looking shop. A strange arrangement of human letter spelled out something Garrus couldn't identify. What he could identify, however, were the numerous pictures in the shop window. All of these photos featured couples, groups, and friends posing in front of a saloon bar in the same strange attire he saw at The Gem.   
  
"Era photos," Shepard grinned, seeming thrilled. "We dress up and they take our picture."   
  
"Shepard, I take back everything I said about wanting to get our picture taken."   
  
Shepard rolled her eyes. "Come on, you big baby. You'll look great. See, you're not the only turian who's been here," she added, pointing out numerous photos featuring his species.   
  
"I am the only turian who helped defeat Saren, though," he added. "That needs to count for something."   
  
Shepard gave him the same pouty-lipped expression he'd seen earlier that morning. Garrus' fight died before it had even started; she was playing him like a flute, or whatever that strange human saying was.   
  
"Alright," he sighed. "But you still owe me dinner."   
  
"Done."   
  
"And dessert."   
  
"Of course," Shepard agreed, her eyes dancing merrily.   
  


* * *

  
"It's the best thing I've ever had," Shepard grinned, looking down at her copies of their photo shoot. The photographer had given her a digital copy as well as real film copies, which had cost more than Garrus could understand paying.  _ Not that Shepard is hurting for money,  _ he rationalized. And she did seem  _ extremely  _ pleased to have them.   
  
"I look like an idiot," Garrus groaned, leaning in to take another look. The photo she had been looking at was one of the 'serious' ones – they had put on terse faces and posed strictly, just as the photographer had asked. Garrus had been shoved into a modified black suit that fit his turian form. He had also been equipped with a silver pocket watch and hat, which was also modified to accommodate his fringe. In the picture, he leaned against the bar, a fake cigar in one hand and a bottle of levo-whiskey in the other.   
  
Shepard had been dressed in much the same way the Gem's ladies were dressed. Garrus had to admit, the bustle did look nice against her slim waist. The emerald green of her dress looked even better. She had been posed beside him, leaning provocatively against the bar.   
  
"We make a damn good wild west couple, Garrus," Shepard giggled, sipping her dessert coffee.   
  
Garrus tried not to let her words affect him.   _ We make a good couple… we make a good couple…. Good couple. Couple.   _ "You make a good saloon girl," Garrus finally said, shaking himself out of his poisonous thoughts.  He distracted himself by taking another spoonful of his turian cream-based dessert. "I, on the other hand, am much more dashing in a nice armor set."   
  
Shepard snorted. "Don't be such a spoilsport. I think you look fantastic." She tucked the photos safely into a carrying bag the photographer had given her. "So, hotel or car?"   
  
Garrus moaned. "The car will never be an option ever again. You can't even imagine how hard it is to maneuver in those seats without dislocating a knee spur."   
  
Shepard grimaced. "Point taken. Besides, I want to get an early start tomorrow. We have a long drive through no man's land."   
  
Garrus smiled. "And then what?"   
  
Shepard shrugged. "And then… we're in Seattle. Where I was born... and nearly put to death," she added, smiling slightly.   
  
Garrus reached out, his hand grazing against her arm. "Shepard… are you ready to see it again?"   
  
Shepard nodded, though she didn't look so sure. "I need to… for closure. To prove I'm not who I was then."   
  
Garrus nodded, pulling away from the commander. Her face had gone wistful and she looked lost in her own thoughts as she paid for their meals. The two wandered back into the nearly empty street, ambling toward their parked car.   
  
The Bullock Hotel stood grandly, boasting the same ancient décor that seemed to breathe through the town. Shepard had gone in alone to request a room, returning a few minutes later with a large, antique brass object.   
  
"What is that?" Garrus asked, looking confused.   
  
"It's a key. This is what we used to use before technology." The two grabbed their bags out of the car and went to the hotel's back entrance. They climbed up two flights of rickety stairs which led to an ornate, but extremely old, hallway.   
  
Shepard found their room, opening the door with the strange key. They entered the spacious quarters and Shepard instantly fell into bed, sprawled out over the whole mattress.   
  
Garrus sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. "Tell me about this place," he prompted. She was usually bursting with information. Her recent silence was disconcerting.   
  
Shepard glanced over at him, seeming amused. "Well… Bullock was the first lawman in Deadwood… like a C-Sec officer," she explained. "Before him, Deadwood didn't have anyone to put rules in place or enforce them. He brought civility to the town, which a lot of people thought couldn't be done.   
  
"They say he still walks the halls," she added, her smile becoming more real. She was cheering herself up with her storytelling, just as Garrus had hoped. "His ghost, anyway. The guests and staff are always talking about new apparitions or paranormal activity."   
  
Garrus chuckled. "Maybe we'll have a visitor tonight, then?"   
  
"Maybe. He's supposedly fond of the third floor." She rolled to the side, clearing enough room for Garrus to join her. He lowered himself onto the bed, facing her. "I am quite fond of you, Vakarian," she said finally, watching him intently.   
  
Garrus felt his stomach flip-flop at her words. "I would certainly hope so, Commander. I would be concerned as to why you were bringing me along if you weren't."   _ Stupid, stupid¸ why in the hell did you say that? _ he chided himself heatedly.   
  
A strange look crossed Shepard's face and her smile looked a bit forced. "I guess you're right about that." She rolled onto her back, eyes closing. "I just meant… well." Her voice faded out and she chuckled gently. "Never mind."   
  
Garrus watched as she slowly slipped into a restless sleep, all the while wondering what she might have said if he hadn't made such a fool of himself.   



	6. La Vie En Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything! 
> 
> This chapter's title song is "La Vie En Rose," by Edith Piaf. Enjoy!

**Day 6**

Shepard had not been kidding about there being a long, boring drive ahead of them. They had woken up at four in the morning, and subsequently drove through a properly called no man's land.' There had been one extremely interesting thing in South Dakota, however. They came across massive statues sitting alone in an otherwise empty pasture.

"What are they?" Garrus asked.   
  
Shepard pulled over onto the side of the road, getting out of the car. She took a quick picture with her omni-tool and scanned for matching results across the extranet. "Strange," she murmured, more to herself than him. "It looks like these were built a long, long time ago. Some guy who owned all of this land made all sorts of statues out of scrap metal. That one there," she pointed to the one with horns sticking out of the top, "is the head of an Egyptian bull. A pack animal," she added for clarification. "It's supposedly 25 tons and the size of a Mount Rushmore face."   
  
"Mount Rushmore face?" It seemed like the more Shepard talked, the more confused Garrus became.   
  
"Sorry. Um, there's a huge carving in a mountain, and it has the faces of the United States' founding forefathers. It's huge. Like, massive."   
  
Garrus watched her closely to see if she was trying to trick him. It didn't seem like it, but she did have a wicked poker face. "Who would carve faces into a mountain?"   
  
Shepard snorted. "Garrus, don't make fun of our history! It's symbolic."   
  
"Of?" Garrus pressed.   
  
Shepard shrugged. "I don't know... I guess, for me, it symbolizes humanity's will and ability to strike out on our own in search of a better life. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," she quoted, a smile slinking over her face.   
  
Garrus still didn't think carving people's faces into a mountain was symbolic of all that, but what did he know? Shepard seemed to believe it and so he wasn't going to judge. "Okay, so a bull head the size of a mountain face... got it. Now, what about that thing?"   
  
Shepard laughed. "Well, that is a hammer. I am not sure why it is pink and yellow, or why there is a statue of it... but there you have it."   
  
Garrus shook his head. "I still think you humans don't make sense."   
  
"We're all crazy," she reminded, climbing back into the car. When Garrus rejoined her, she added, "Think of it this way: who's crazier - the human or the turian who is road-tripping with her?"   
  
"Point taken," Garrus hummed.   
  
Other than a few small stops at gas stations and diners, the two played what Shepard called  _ road trip games _ on the uneventful ride. The most recent game was to find letters of the human alphabet on the old billboards dotting the roads.   
  
Shepard, of course, had a natural advantage. Garrus had to keep checking what the letter looked like on him omni-tool. Even then, Shepard would call it out first because, due to a strange font or lowercase, Garrus hadn't recognized it.   
  
"We're playing this game just so you can beat me," Garrus realized after Shepard found her fifteenth letter. He was still struggling with "B."   
  
Shepard actually had the grace to look embarrassed. "No... I might have known I'd be a lot better, but that doesn't mean I was doing it just to win."   
  
Garrus chuckled. "Pull over," he requested.   
  
Shepard did as she was bidden. "What, you planning on walking?" she teased.   
  
Garrus didn't answer, just beckoned her to follow him as he got out of the car. Shepard turned the car off and hopped out of the vehicle. At his request to do so, Shepard opened up the trunk. Garrus grabbed his rifle out of the back, glancing over at Shepard. "You brought yours, didn't you?"   
  
Shepard offered him a sheepish smile. "No... just my pistol. I'm on shore leave!" she said as a defense when he narrowed his eyes.   
  
Garrus shrugged. "I guess we have to share, then." He ducked into the trunk, opening up his bag and pulling out a clear sack of small cylindrical items. "I picked these up in Branson," he explained. "I wanted to do this at night but forgot your eyesight is horrible in the dark. And I am guessing you didn't bring your visor, either?"   
  
Shepard huffed good-naturedly, nudging Garrus gently with her elbow. "Don't be rude, I came out here for relaxation."   
  
"Right," Garrus thrummed, "which is why we should shoot things." He led Shepard out into the open field bordering the road. He handed Shepard his gun and tossed a disc in a high arc.   
  
Shepard shouldered the gun and let off a shot; she nicked the disc and it was sent into a crazy downward spiral. Bright, multicolored streams of smoke shot from the disc as it fell.   
  
Shepard's eyes were wide when she looked over at Garrus. "What are these things?"   
  
Garrus laughed. "These are how turians train their children to shoot." He handed her a disc and took the rifle from her. "Think your little arm can throw far enough for a difficult shot?" he teased.   
  
Shepard narrowed her eyes, her smile mischievous. "I hope you got your ass kicked by a woman someday. And I kinda hope it's me." Without another word she pulled her arm back and threw the disc in an arching curve.   
  
Garrus took a moment to line up his sight before pulling the trigger effortlessly. The disc shattered head-on, spraying a shower of rainbow light over the field.   
  
They spent another hour practicing shots, lighting up the sky with brilliant colors. Finally, when the last disc had been shot open, Garrus laughed. "You're a quick learner. It only took you, what, fifteen discs to hit one properly?"   
  
Shepard shoved him playfully. "You better watch it, Vakarian. You forget that I have some pretty impressive tech to back me up if you get out of hand."   
  
Garrus chuckled, turning toward the car. "Ready to get back to it?"   
  
"Sure," Shepard alleged, looking torn between excitement and anxiety.   
  
It was only a bit past midday when they crossed over the Washington state line. Shepard's fingers began to drum on the steering wheel restlessly. A few hours later, while crossing the mountain range that separated eastern and western Washington, she began to bite her lower lip.   
  
Garrus watched her closely from the corner of his eye, concerned at her obvious display of distress. After a few moments, he spoke up. "So, what is the plan once we get into town?"   
  
Shepard glanced over at him, her eyes glazed as if lost in thought. She slowly pulled herself out of it, offering him a smile. "Well," she began hesitantly. "We have to see the Space Needle of course. It's certainly not the coolest building in the city now, but it's a piece of history. Plus," she added, voice dropping, "I kind of stole something from one of the stores there when I was younger. I want to pay for it."   
  
Garrus couldn't help feeling as though she was overreacting. "What could you have stolen that’s worth the trouble?"   
  
Shepard laughed softly, glancing down at her hands. "I stole an auction item. It was an ancient musical instrument – you know, the rustic stuff we used before we had all of this digital stuff." She seemed like she was trying to hide a smile. "It was this fantastic acoustic guitar – electric blue with black piping. It practically moaned with desire when you played it." She shook her head, almost sadly. "One of the Reds, Finch, took a machete to it after getting roaring drunk. He tried to buy it from me… but it was my only possession. My only happiness.  When I played it, I felt… normal. Special, even."   
  
Garrus reached out to touch her arm but was interrupted by Shepard's omni-tool lighting up and buzzing gently with an incoming call. Shepard sighed, pulling the car over before connecting the call to her earpiece. "Kaidan," she greeted.   
  
"Where are you?" he asked. He sounded normal – maybe a bit stressed, but certainly not as angry as he had been the day before.   
  
"In Washington," she answered honestly. "We're stopping in Seattle for the night. We'll be in Vancouver by tomorrow."   
  
"Shepard," Kaidan sighed. He sounded weary now.   
  
"Kaidan, this whole thing with Udina is ridiculous," Shepard murmured. "I need this. I need to go home, confront demons."   
  
Kaidan was silent for a moment before he replied. "Shepard, I understand. Look, I'll spend the night with my folks here in Vancouver. Let's meet up at 5 pm tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow we'll work this whole thing out and decide what to tell Udina."   
  
"There's nothing to tell Udina," Shepard responded, exasperated. "It's none of his damn business how I lead my life, anyway. If the Council has a problem with what I do, then they can talk to me directly. If Udina has a problem, he should have called me. When did you become his errand boy, anyway?"   
  
Shepard regretted the words immediately. Garrus cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking out the window.   
  
Kaidan was silent for a long time. He then replied, voice neutral, "Look, I get it. I get you're pissed off at Udina. But this stuff is bigger than you – your image is all humanity has right now. If we want a bigger part in things, we need you setting a good example. Fucking around Earth with a turian is not what a lot of humans – and turians, for that matter - want to see."   
  
"We'll see you tomorrow, Kaidan," was her only response. She ended the call, letting out a deep intake of breath.   
  
"Hey," Garrus murmured, "don't let him get to you."   
  
"I know," Shepard responded quickly. She turned the car back on and maneuvered onto the road. "Let's just get to Seattle. We have a dinner reservation and I need a huge glass of wine."   
  


* * *

  
Shepard stood in the hotel room, anxiously tugging at the hem of her dress. She had bought the dress especially for this dinner.  Originally, when she thought she would be traveling alone, she figured this dress would be perfect. It was a black silk number, strapless, with a modest bust that draped elegantly all the way to her knees.  The back, however, was a seductive cut-out, exposing skin from her slender neck to the small of her back.   
  
The dress was gorgeous enough to fit in with the other patrons that would be dining; however, it was also scant enough to show off her numerous scars. The scars on the upper arms would be the most noticeable, but a few decorated her legs, as well. Shepard liked to remind others that she wasn't one to trifle with; scars tended to get that point across very well.   
  
Now that Garrus would be joining her, though, it made things more complicated. Even though she had slept beside him in practically nothing, something about this dress made her feel exposed. 

She rubbed her fingers over her bare arms, watching herself in the mirror. She had pulled her hair up into a bun and accented her normally light makeup with a few swipes of eyeliner and lipstick. She looked good – better than usual, anyway - but she still felt plain.

Her omni-tool lit up and buzzed. Kaidan was calling – again. Shepard sighed, pressing her earpiece to accept the call. "Yes, Kaidan?"   
  
He didn't say anything for a moment, but then words began rushing out of his mouth. "Shepard, I've missed you. I know we said we weren't going to talk about what happened-"   
  
"Kaidan," Shepard whispered, eyes closing. "I don't want to do this right now."   
  
"I have to know," Kaidan pressed. "I know we're over, that we never actually started... I get that; one time fling before we possibly died. But Shepard… why him?"   
  
"Kaidan, I’m not discussing this with you," Shepard returned, feeling exhaustion seep into her bones. She had known this was coming; Kaidan was too attached to her and she, in a moment of weakness, had exploited that. Had used him.   
  
"Why him?"   
  
Shepard shook his head. "Does it really make a difference to you when I say that this was unexpected? He just happened to have nothing better to do, and so I asked if he wanted to come along for a road trip?  And now here we are, on this road trip, and for some reason, people are upset by it.  By two people being people, Kaidan."   
  
Kaidan was quiet. She could hear something that sounded like water – she remembered Kaidan had mentioned his parents lived off of English Bay. He was probably sitting out on their dock, a beer in hand, trying to discern why his commander could be such a heartless bitch.   
  
Finally, he spoke. "I miss you." His words sounded choked.   
  
Shepard sat on the bed, a hand going to her forehead. "Kaidan, please don't do this."   
  
"I can't help it!" he yelled. There was a noise like breaking glass on his end.  "I don't know what it is, Shepard, I can't get you out of my head."   
  
"Well then try harder," she said simply. "I am going out to dinner. Please… get some sleep. Don't drink any more alcohol, it's a depressant," she added.   
  
Kaidan chuckled harshly. "Is that an order?"   
  
"Yeah, it is," Shepard responded before ending the call. She sat on the bed, staring at the strappy black heels she'd shoved her feet into, feeling pitiful.   
  
A knock on the door alerted her that Garrus must have gotten back from picking up appropriately fancy dinner attire. She slowly got up from the bed, shrugging on a black coat she had picked up. Even in the summer, the rainy city had a habit of pulling out freakish weather.   
  
She went to the door, opening it with a hesitant smile. Garrus stood before her wearing a pair of black turian slacks and an elegant tunic. The material a thick red with blue and black brocade. Although the clothing was commonly seen on turians on the Citadel, seeing Garrus wearing it was a little startling.  Especially since the red of his shirt matched her hair and the blue brocade was eerily similar to his clan markings.   
  
Garrus’ mandibles were flared wide as he looked over her.  "You look…." he began, his harmonics seeming jittery.   
  
"Like an idiot, I know," Shepard laughed softly.   
  
Garrus looked stunned. "I was definitely not going to say that."   
  
Shepard shrugged. "You look great, I look great, whatever- I am starving and I need that wine."   
  
Garrus chuckled, taking her arm and thrumming, "Well, we can't deny the gorgeous lady of her needs, can we?"   
  


* * *

  
The Space Needle Restaurant overlooked all of Seattle with a fantastic 360-degree view. The fact that the restaurant was slowly rotating to give all guests the best sights possible made it even better.   
  
Garrus was fascinated by the building from the moment he saw it from the ground. "Your people engineered this before you even knew how to harness mass effect fields?"   
  
"We did," Shepard said proudly.   
  
The pair took the elevator up to the restaurant and were immediately identified and placed at a small, intimate table that had been set aside from the others. The host took Shepard's coat for her, displaying her outfit fully. Garrus took in the sight of her and forgot how to breathe.  She was so human, so small, so thin… and so goddamn gorgeous.   
  
The host pulled out Shepard's seat for her, which she slid into gracefully. Garrus took his own seat, all the while admiring Shepard's form. Once their host had left, Garrus hummed, "You look… amazing."   
  
Shepard snorted back a soft laugh. "Please."   
  
Garrus blinked at her, sitting back in his chair. "I give up on ever trying to give you a compliment."   
  
The two took turns with unusually polite, idle chatter while they drank wine and waited for their food. Shepard had almost polished off her entire bottle of wine when she decided to drop the charade. "I have a confession. If you hate me afterward, then so be it."   
  
Garrus' mandible flared. "This sounds good. Hit me."   
  
Shepard took another long drink from her wine glass before murmuring, "Kaidan and I had sex and now he's hung up on me."   
  
Garrus snorted into his own wine glass, taking a sip of his turian still. "I already knew that."   
  
Shepard sighed, leaning back in her chair. "And how did you know?"   
  
Garrus shrugged. "I just…knew. The tension between you two there toward the end was ridiculous. Then, suddenly, one day you're relaxed, the tension is gone. Then Kaidan starts following you like a lost pyjak, all adoration and affection. But you didn't receive it. You kept your distance and slowly the relaxation became an annoyance."   
  
Shepard chuckled softly, her finger tracing the stem of the wineglass. "You're very intuitive."   
  
"Well, it might have helped that Liara was coming to call you down for a briefing and overheard some of the moaning," Garrus admitted, amusement coloring his voice. "And you know Liara – she won't tell a soul except for the one she expected to be involved."   
  
Shepard's cheeks reddened. "She thought it was you and me?"   
  
Garrus nodded, his laughter making his mandibles flutter. "She assumed it was me, what with how often you'd come to check up on me and the Mako."   
  
Shepard shook her head. "What did you tell her?"   
  
"Well… I might not have corrected her way of thinking, while also not admitting to it."   
  
"Garrus!" Shepard laughed, feeling her tensions seeping away. "You're a sneaky bastard, you know that?  Pair that with those rugged good looks and that fantastic voice and… well.  What more could a girl ask for?"   
  
Garrus shrugged, his voice dropping a bit lower, flanging heavily. "What can I say? I am a natural lady-killer."   
  
The pair finished their meal and settled their tab before sauntering down to the lobby of the Space Needle. The shops were all beginning to close, but Shepard managed to make it inside of Musical Fancies before the man behind the counter locked up.   
  
"Excuse me, sir," she said quickly, "I was wondering what your most expensive guitar is?"   
  
The man blinked, confused. "Guitar? We haven't sold guitars in five years. No one can play nowadays."   
  
Shepard frowned. "Well… do you happen to remember anyone telling you about a special blue and black acoustic guitar that was on display here, maybe… sixteen years ago? I think it was some kind of auction item for a new music school, to teach kids the old instruments."   
  
The man laughed ruefully. "Kid, I was here the day that thing got stolen. I still can't figure how the thief got it."   
  
"How much would you say that guitar could have auctioned for?" Shepard pressed.   
  
The man shrugged. "Well, let me think. Antiques that old … I would guess probably somewhere around 120 to 150,000."   
  
Shepard walked over to his terminal, transferring over 200,000 credits. The man sputtered in surprise and Shepard offered him a smile. "Consider the extra 50,000 interest." The man's eyes lit up in understanding, but Shepard and Garrus were leaving the store before he could say anything else.   
  
As they walked down Harrison Street arm-in-arm, Shepard paused. "Do you hear that?" she asked, her ears picking up a faint, rhythmic noise.   
  
Garrus nodded. "Someone's singing." He led Shepard in the direction of the voice. As they drew closer, they saw it was an old man sitting on the lip of a sparkling fountain in a plaza courtyard. The multi-colored lights strung from the trees in the square lit the fountain, making the water seem to dance.   
  
Garrus turned to Shepard, expecting to see the faintly delighted smile of hers that he loved so much.  Instead, her eyes were filling with tears.

“Shepard-”

Shepard pulled her coat off raggedly, letting it fall to the ground, and raised her arm.  She pointed at the second prison tattoo.  “The… man… I almost killed.  It was right there.  Right in front of International Fountain.  Blood… everywhere.”

Garrus swept her into his arms, holding her close.  “Shepard….”  He didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t know how to make it better.  So he held her and slowly, slowly, began to sway in place with her.

“Jane,” he whispered, using her first name for the first time.  “Dance with me.”

Shepard pulled back slightly, but only enough to look up at him.  Her eyes shone in the lights sprinkled through the trees.  Her face was open and vulnerable and the most beautiful thing Garrus had ever seen.

They swayed together for a few moments before Shepard leaned in closer, resting her head against his chest, her arms secured around his neck. Garrus held her close, listening to the old gentleman's voice as he sang sweet words about true love.   
  
_ I think I love you, Shepard, _ Garrus thought to himself, smelling the sweet vanilla scent that clung to the commander. _ But you aren't one for love… and I don't think I could handle it if you left me like you did Kaidan. _   
  
"Garrus," Shepard whispered, her voice barely heard.   
  
"Hmm?" he rumbled.   
  
"I don't want this night to end," she responded, voice tinged with sadness.  With regret.   
  
Garrus squeezed her gently, his mouth pressing against the top of her head.  _ Neither do I, Jane.  Neither do I. _   



	7. Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song goes to Goyte (ft Kimbra) with the song, "Somebody That I Used to Know." Please enjoy!

**Day 7**

Shepard stood on the balcony overlooking Puget Sound. It was easily two in the morning and the chilly night air caressed her slender form. She had shrugged her coat on over her underwear, but the chill had a tricky way of getting under her skin and burrowing there.

Shepard took a draught of the rum and coke she'd mixed together, all thanks to the fully stocked mini fridge. She sipped the drink, wincing a bit at the high rum content. She had told herself just one drink to calm her nerves would be enough; this was her third drink and she couldn't come up with an excuse as to why she needed it.   
  
She was on edge. Not because of the city anymore, though. This place was just like any other she had ever visited.  Her past was exactly that – her past. She wasn't haunted by it anymore. Perhaps it was seeing the city without the fear of not finding food or coming face-to-face with her death. Or perhaps it was paying for the most expensive thing she had ever stolen. Or, it might have just been the fact that she had someone she trusted watching her six.   
  
The glass door leading outside to the balcony opened up and Garrus, in nothing but those strange turian pants he wore to bed, stepped out. Shepard offered him a smile, tilting her head to the side. "Can't sleep?" she asked softly.   
  
Garrus ducked his head in a show of amusement as he came to stand beside her. He looked out over the brightly lit city, taking in a deep breath of the nippy air. "It's hard to sleep alone after getting used to someone else being there."   
  
Shepard nodded, glancing out to the water. A few late-night party schooners sailed gracefully over the still water, the slight breeze tugging the sails along. "I guess that means you need to settle down with a nice turian girl on the Citadel, then," she teased lightly… or attempted to. Her voice was flat and didn't reflect the humor she meant to instill into it.   
  
Garrus chuckled. He moved closer to her, his body practically flush against hers. His hands gripped the balcony on either side of her as he leaned down, murmuring in her ear, "I think I sensed something like jealousy, Commander."   
  
Shepard bit her lower lip. She knew that this should not be happening. She knew that she shouldn't have been feeling this way. "Sorry, I'm just…tired."   
  
"Mmhmm," Garrus thrummed, his right mandible fluttering gently against her cheek. Shepard's eyes closed, feeling that horribly fierce rush of endorphins that accompanied arousal. She could feel him, hard and yearning, pressing against her back.  

"I can practically taste your heartbeat, Shepard. You can't fool me anymore."

Shepard took a deep breath, trying to calm her pulse. She had almost succeeded when Garrus' right hand moved to her throat, gently caressing the spot just behind her ear. Shepard's heart slammed against her ribcage ferociously, her legs beginning to tremble. "Garrus, please.…"   
  
Garrus chuckled, his face lowering to the crook of her neck. He nipped the skin, warm breath fanning across her collarbone. "Please what, Shepard?" he hummed against her skin.   
  
"Please…" the word stuttered out of her lips – she was shaking from much more than cold… quite the opposite, in fact. She had never felt this intense of a fire that seemed to be roaring inside of her. "Garrus," she whispered, turning in his arms and succumbing. She felt him chuckle more than heard it as her lips rose to meet his mouth.   
  
She had never know kissing a turian would be so appealing. She had figured it would be an awkward ordeal without much pleasure; kind of like practice kissing a mirror in middle school. But this... this was entirely different. His mouth might not have been soft, but it was feverishly warm and the muscles moved tightly beneath her lips.   
  
"You've done this before," she accused softly as she pulled away.   
  
Garrus laughed; the sound was much deeper and richer than usual. "I might have kissed an asari or two in the past."   
  
Shepard kissed him again, this time more passionately. His arms wrapped around her and lifted her effortlessly. Her legs instinctively went to his slender waist, his curved hips making an almost perfect crook for her thighs. He carried her into the hotel room, settling them both on the bed.   
  


* * *

  
A sudden, loud, shrilling noise awoke Shepard with a start. She fumbled blindly around the bedside table, finally grabbing the room's wall phone. "Yes?" she groaned.   
  
"Wakeup call for room 1405."   
  
Shepard blinked for a few moments before grumbling, "This is 1605."   
  
There was an embarrassed chuckle. "Oh my, I am so sorry. Please forget this interruption. Good day."   
  
Shepard hung up the receiver and stretched. She took in the sight of Garrus, sleeping soundly on his side, his back to her. She noticed the hem of his pants and tilted her head, confused. She then realized she was also wearing her nightly underwear. The sheets were smooth and in place, just the way they were when the pair had laid down for bed.   
  
_ I had a wet dream about Garrus, _ Shepard realized, mortified. She sat in bed, the soft cotton sheets pooling in her lap, and couldn't believe herself. How had it come to this? She was an Alliance commander, for christ's sake! She had already seduced her lieutenant and dropped him, now she was targeting her best friend?   
  
Garrus stirred slightly before rolling over to face her. His eyes met hers and he was instantly awake, instantly alert. "Why aren't you asleep?"   
  
Shepard covered her face with a hand, trying to wash the fabricated images of him from her mind. "Just a dream," she murmured.   
  
Garrus propped himself up on an arm. "Bad dream?"   
  
Shepard lowered herself back down onto her pillow, snorting. "No… it was a pretty good one, actually."   
  
Garrus chuckled. "Then why do you sound distressed?"   
  
Shepard shook her head. "It's complicated."   
  
"Shepard, what do you do in life that isn't complicated?"   
  
She laughed softly, glancing over at him. "Have you ever kissed an asari?"   
  
Garrus burst into a riotous laughter, harmonics flanging heavily. "No, I never have."   
  
"Hmm," Shepard murmured herself. "Interesting."   
  
Garrus' mandibles were twitching like mad. "Did you have a dream about me kissing an asari?"   
  
"No," Shepard laughed softly. "I might have had a dream where you said you did, though."   
  
"That's a very strange thing to dream about," Garrus pointed out.   
  
Shepard shrugged. "What can I say? Humans. We're weird."   
  
Garrus seemed intent on getting the story out of her. "Well, what else was the dream about?"   
  
Shepard shrugged, rolling onto her side. "I don't know. I've pretty much forgotten it already."   
  
Garrus leaned in closer, his breath fanning across her cheek and making that damn spark of arousal light inside her belly. Shepard closed her eyes, willing herself not to react. "Shepard," Garrus prodded, "you are a horrible liar."   
  
"Only with you."   
  
"True, which I am grateful for." He let her lay silently for a moment before sighing. "Alright, fine. If you're that embarrassed about having a dream about me and Liara-"   
  
Shepard giggled - she couldn't help it, he somehow always managed to make her laugh. "You're so egotistical. Why would I dream about you and Liara?"   
  
"You mentioned asari… Well if it wasn't me, was it about you and Liara?" he pressed. "That would make sense, what with her embracing eternity with you about a million times."   
  
"Garrus!" Shepard exclaimed, turning around to face him, slapping his chest gently. "Liara had nothing to do with it."   
  
"Well," Garrus hummed, grabbing her hand with his, "the only other thing I can possibly imagine is that you had a dream about us."   
  
Shepard's face was flooded with heat again. She tugged her hand out of his, repeating, "You are so egotistical." She turned, her back facing him again.   
  
Garrus only laughed, coming in to wrap himself around her from behind. "You're a horrible liar," he repeated, mouth lowering to her neck in an oddly human kiss. He pulled away after a moment, still chuckling as he rolled back to his side of the bed.   
  
_ Damn it, _ Shepard thought venomously, knowing sleep would be impossible now.   
  


* * *

  
Vancouver was a bright metropolis of gleaming white marble and metal. It looked more similar to the Citadel than any of the other Earth-based metropolises that Shepard had been to. 

The drive there had been relatively uneventful aside from Garrus’ overly cheerful mood.  It was no doubt due to the discovery of Shepard’s sex dream.

He didn't mention it, however. He instead asked questions about places they drove by, his tone chipper and edging on teasing.  He had known he’d riled her up and the realization seemed to please him more than anything else.

Shepard was tense, and not just from Garrus’ teasing.  She was worried about meeting with Kaidan.  She was worried about what kind of confrontation she was in for. 

For the first time on the trip, she felt as if Garrus shouldn't be there. She wasn't sure if it had more to do with how complicated her feelings were becoming for Garrus, or if it was the complications of Kaidan’s feelings as they threatened to flood all over the three of them.

By the time they arrived at Kaidan's family home on the English Bay, Shepard was ready to shoot herself just to end the torment.  Garrus had been talking the entire way - Shepard had a feeling he was attempting to be sweet, attempting to take her mind off of the impending doom of meeting with Kaidan.   
  
The gate to the sprawling family home opened for them without Shepard having to buzz in. The sleek white house sat on an even more beautiful property. The landscaping was perfectly manicured, the rose and gardenia bushes bursting with color.   
  
Garrus made a low grumble of appreciation. "His parents have done well."   
  
"His dad's Alliance, too," Shepard responded. She felt the tension in her stomach building, making her insides churn with anxiety. She had stared down Saren and a reaper and she was, somehow, more nervous now than she had been either of those times.    
  
Shepard pulled the car up to the long circular drive and turned the ignition off. The car's loud rattling groan was silenced just as the front door to the house opened. Kaidan stepped out, wearing a pair of jeans and a tennis polo. It was certainly nothing Shepard would have expected to see him in, but she forgot about his outfit entirely when she noticed his face.   
  
There was a cut on his cheek. His eyes were narrowed, mouth set in a deep frown. He wasn't looking at her, either; he was looking at Garrus.   
  
_ Begin play. Act One, Scene One - Jealousy,  _ Shepard thought, heart sinking.   
  
Kaidan then turned his expression to her. He strode toward her with purpose, his hands tightened into fists. Shepard braced herself, ready for anything. If he tried to swing at her, she would put him on the ground. Past bed-partner or not, shore leave or not, she would not accept his insubordination.   
  
What she was not ready for was Kaidan taking her neck in one hand, pulling her in, and crushing his lips against hers. She was stunned for a moment, the complete shock of it making her freeze. Within a second she was shoving him away, voice raising, "Kaidan, what the fuck?"   
  
"There is still something here, Shepard," Kaidan growled. "You can't tell me you feel nothing for me."   
  
Shepard swallowed. She knew the situation could get out of hand easily - turn into a domestic dispute on his parents’ sprawling estate.  She didn’t want that.  She didn’t want to bring the cops in, pull her status, get Kaidan put in jail for a night.

She lowered her voice and said as softly as she could, "Kaidan… you're my lieutenant and my friend. I trust you with my life. I would die for you. My feelings don't go beyond that."

"You used me, then." It was a statement, not a question. 

“...Yes.”  Shepard watched his face contort into something between sorrow and rage. "Kaidan, I'm sorry. It was a bad call on my part. I wasn't thinking right."

"A bad call?" Kaidan repeated. "A bad call. Well, that makes this so much better. So much  _ fucking  _ better, to know that I was a bad call."   
  
Shepard let out a sigh, looking away from Kaidan and down toward the bay.  The water lapped against the dock, calm and soothing.  "Kaidan… I should have thought about what this might do to us before I called you into the cabin. I should have warned you that I wasn't in it for the long haul. It was just… stress relief."   
  
Kaidan’s keen eyes regarded her for a moment before he ran a hand through his hair.  The fight seemed to roll out of him and he wilted, sighing.  "I get it. I knew then, too. I mean, I saw the regret in your face right after we…." He glanced over at Garrus, who was close enough to assist Shepard if Kaidan got violent, but far enough to give them privacy. "It's just, seeing you with him on all of those vids… I don't know how he can make you happier than I can."   
  
Shepard leaned back against her car. "Kaidan, it shouldn't matter. I shouldn't matter to you like that."   
  
"I know," Kaidan said quickly, hand sliding over his face, rubbing his eyes. "I know, I just… I can't help it.  You're just… you. No one can resist you."   
  
Shepard rolled her eyes and looked back toward the dock. "Kaidan, I need to know we're okay. If we need to bring in a mediator or get Udina involved to solve this thing, if we need to reassign you, then I need to know in advance."   
  
Kaidan shook his head. "Nah, we…  _ I’ll  _ be okay, Shepard. I can get over this. Not like I haven't been dumped before," he tried to joke. The look on his face was anything but amused, though. He looked heartbroken. "I, uh… I scheduled our flight back to Florida for tomorrow morning. I haven't been able to reach Joker; I was wondering if you could try. He'll probably answer you."   
  
"Sure," Shepard nodded. She pulled up her omni-tool's interface, sending a comm request along to Joker. The line tried to connect for a few moments before dropping. "Strange," she murmured, feeling uneasy. "Do you think he got into trouble?"   
  
"If he was picked up by the cops, they'd run his creds and find the Alliance colors. The Alliance would have contacted you if he hadn't done so directly," Kaidan said simply with a shrug. "He's probably passed out drunk."   
  
Shepard nodded, feeling uneasy all the same. "Well, we'll go find a hotel for the night and be on our way in the morning, I guess. I need to find somewhere to dump this, too," she added, kicking the beat up car's wheel with her shoe.   
  
Kaidan laughed, seeming much more relaxed.  Shepard had evidently talked him off his ledge the same way she did with everyone.  She was blessed with charisma, with easy charm.  It surprised Garrus every time he saw it in action.

It shouldn’t have, of course.  She had just as much effect on him as anyone else.  Perhaps more.

"That is one sorry car, Shepard,” Kaidan was saying.  “I'm shocked to see you riding in it.  I guess there's more to you than I figured.”

"I guess there is," Shepard murmured. She waved goodbye to Kaidan before climbing back into the rusted blue car with the polyurethane roof.   
  
Garrus went to Kaidan and said something to the man in an undertone. The two exchanged a brief conversation which ended with a handshake. The two parted and Garrus came back to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. Right before Shepard turned the car on, Kaidan yelled, "Take care of her!"   
  
Garrus raised a hand in acknowledgment. Shepard raised her eyebrow but didn't press it. She turned the key in the old vehicle, the engine rolling over after a few moments. They pulled away from the Alenko house and drove toward downtown Vancouver.   
  


* * *

  
Shepard sat in the hotel's Japanese meditation garden, trying to release the tension clogging every area in her body. She tried to focus on her chakras, but no matter what she did, she kept hitting a brick wall when it came to her heart chakra. She sat cross-legged, her arms relaxed at her sides, eyes closed. She cleared her mind, just as she had been taught in her early days of training.   
  
But no matter how hard she tried, a certain turian kept infiltrating her thoughts. She was ready to give up when a familiar voice gently murmured, "Having trouble?"   
  
Shepard sighed.  Evidently thinking about the turian called him forth.  She slowly got to her feet, brushing off her leggings. "Yeah, a bit. At least the tension in the lower half of my body is gone," she laughed ruefully. Garrus stood before her, holding a mug of something. He handed it to her and, on closer inspection, she realized it was a steaming mug of Earl Grey.   
  
"Thank you," she murmured, taking a sip. The scalding liquid burned down her throat, filling her limbs with warmth.   
  
"No problem. I figured you might need it after your talk with Kaidan." Garrus took a seat on a nearby bench, watching giant koi fish lazily slink around the pond in front of them.   
  
Shepard joined him, sitting so close that her thigh pressing against his.  She knew it was a bad idea.  She knew she shouldn’t touch him so familiarly, long for him so desperately.  But she did anyway.  "I made a huge mistake with him." Garrus thrummed his agreement, prompting Shepard to continue. "I hate that I did it. I knew I didn't love him - hell, didn’t even  _ want  _ him. But I also knew I might die. No one wants to die without one last time, right?"   
  
"Right," Garrus agreed. "But I knew I wouldn't die. I knew you wouldn't, too."   
  
"You can't know when we're gonna die," Shepard argued gently.   
  
Garrus laughed. "Well… I had a gut feeling. My gut feelings are generally right." He glanced over at her. "Just like I think my gut feeling last night was dead on. About your dream."   
  
Shepard sighed. "What do you want me to say, Garrus? Yes, I had a dream about us. I had a dream with sweaty skin and a hard carapace biting into me, rumpled sheets and tangled hair. It was hot, messy and absolutely fantastic. Is that what you wanted to hear?"   
  
Garrus looked very pleased with himself, his mandibles twitching. "Yes, Shepard, that was what I wanted to hear." They sat in silence for a moment before Garrus asked suddenly, "Do you like spontaneity?"   
  
Shepard blinked back her surprise. She took another sip of tea before answering cautiously, "Sure. About as much as the next girl, I guess. Why?"   
  
Garrus took her mug from her and placed it on the ground.  He looked at her, his pale blue, crystalline eyes intense.  Shepard swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry.

“Garrus?”

He closed the distance between them, his mouth plates pressing into her lips. His warm mouth and the muscles beneath them were almost identical as to how she had imagined.

_ Only this isn’t your imagination, Shepard. _

Garrus Vakarian was kissing her. And her lips were responding.   
  
When he pulled away, his forehead gently pressed against hers. "That's why," he whispered, a ghost of a smile in his voice.   



	8. Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  
> 
> **SMUT WARNING**
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter's title song is "Moments," by Tove Lo. Please enjoy!

  
Their hands were all over each other from the moment the elevator doors closed.  Shepard could barely catch her breath past the desire coursing through her.  

Garrus had evidently buffed his talons during their absence because his hands were up her shirt and caressing over her abdomen and sides, the short talon stubs left heat-filled furrows that bit but didn’t sting.

“Garrus,” she whispered against his mouth, “Garrus, get me into the room.”

Garrus growled against her neck and picked her up in his arms, nipping her jaw, his tongue sliding across it to her chin.

When the elevator doors opened, Garrus ran to their room, Shepard bouncing in his arms, his carapace already poking into her soft skin through their clothing.  The slight twinge of pain from it made her moan in desire, her vision clouding.

Once they were in the room, Garrus tossed her onto the bed before descending to meet her.  His hands deftly pulled her shirt up and over her head, his mouth immediately rolling over the exposed mounds of her breasts, his long tongue flicking out, curling around the lace.

Shepard wiggled, trying to get out of her leggings but he was trapping her legs between his.  So she changed tactics, pushing his head up and away from her so she could tug his tunic off.  When his chest was bare, she took a moment to scan over his body - over the metallic plates covering most of him, over the leathery skin on his sides and the crooks of his arms, his hands.

Garrus hesitated above her, noticing her sweeping gaze.  He looked concerned, or as concerned as a turian could look. His mandibles were making small, awkward flicks against his face.

Shepard let out a deep breath and raised her hands to his cowl, her fingers caressing down his body, over the ridges and sharp angles.  She let out a shuddering breath, fingers gripping into his sides, pulling him down.  “Get back here,” she whispered.

Garrus was back before she could finish the last word, his mouth greedily meeting hers before trailing down her neck and back to her breasts.  His hands smoothed over her stomach, talons scraping over the delicate skin and making her arch and moan.

“Garrus,” she whispered against his fringe, her hands smoothing over his crown.  “Garrus, tell me where you want to be touched.  Tell me what feels good.”

Garrus pulled back to look up at her.  Her green eyes were darker, her pupils wide.  It would have been concerning, but the look on her face, the way she was breathing through her parted lips… he quickly realized the reactions were arousal.

He took her hand and guided it to a soft spot underneath his fringe.  Her close-cropped fingernails began to massage the spot, gently applying more pressure, and Garrus made a soft trilling noise in pleasure.

Shepard caressed the spot and Garrus purred deep in his throat, watching her eyes, watching her lips, watching how his noises were making her own desire mount.  

Her hips began moving against his in a way Garrus had never seen or felt before.  It was mind numbing.  It was all consuming.  He could feel her heat even through their pants.

 _Pants._  Garrus growled suddenly and pulled back, Shepard’s eyes widened, concerned, but she leaned her head back and moaned when he reached down to drag her leggings off of her.  He tried to grab her underwear but the lace ripped, making an awful noise.

Garrus hesitated but Shepard let out a breathy moan and bucked her hips against his hand.  “Shred it,” she ordered, voice taking the authoritative tone he’d grown so used to in the field.

Like in the field, he didn’t need her to repeat herself.  He leaned down, teeth grabbing the already tearing fabric and ripping it off of her.  The smell of her sex was heady and strong, making his eyes sharpen and his mouth water. 

He dove into her without a thought, his tongue tapping at the stunning wetness between her legs.  Her legs wrapped around his neck, startling him for a moment, but the weight of her and the new angle made his knees tremble.  

His tongue found her passage, slipping inside and making her buck against his face, pressing into him, giving him more access.  His tongue slid into her, finding a strange patch of skin that was almost rough to the touch.

And that was when Shepard let out a high, keening mewl of pleasure.

Garrus focused his attention there, on the strange bundle of nerves, listening to Shepard pant and moan and writhe against him.

And then her body stilled and her passage tightened around his tongue.  A flood of liquid filled his mouth and Garrus drank it in greedily, relishing the slightly sweet, slightly sharp taste of her.

Her cries were long and low and her body began trembling. Garrus gripped her thighs, pulling her in tighter, marveling in the sounds of her release, of her feral joy.

She had barely come down from her climax when she reached down, pushing at his forehead, making him chuckle into her folds as he raised his eyes to hers.

“You’re overdressed,” she purred.

“So are you,” he returned, running a buffed talon over the tops of her breasts, just above the bra.

Shepard smirked and reached behind her.  Within seconds the bra was falling off of her and into her lap.  Garrus tossed it aside and took a moment to admire her.   _Spirits, I’ve died and gone to the afterlife,_ he thought, eagerly reaching out to cup her breasts in his hands, squeezing them.

Shepard’s breathing hitched and her head tilted back, her red hair falling out of her face.

“Where can I touch you?” he asked, lowering his face to her breasts again, nipping the skin.  “Where do you want to be touched.”

One of her hands raised to her breast, teasing the peaked nipple.  Garrus covered the other with his mouth, gently closing his plates around it, tongue stroking across it.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but Shepard had begun to pant, her chest heaving.  “Fuck,” she whispered, groaning against his crown while her free hand found the spot under his fringe and caressed it.  
  
Garrus stroked his hand along her back as his tongue flicked against her nipple; he felt her as she arched, her full breasts pressing against him. She made a noise deep in her throat, something almost akin to a growl, that set Garrus' hands into fists.  Her hands went to the hem of his pants and she let out an exasperated sound.  “Get these fucking things off, Vakarian.”

He chuckled and pulled back.  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, dropping them to the ground.

Shepard looked confused for a moment.  “Um…?”

Garrus cocked his head to the side.  “Something wrong?”  The desire was still there, but the look on her face was making his confidence retreat.

“Where… ah.  How do you…?”  She looked baffled.

Garrus caught her intent and it was his turn to be confused.  He knew humans didn’t have protective plates, but surely their most intimate, important organ wasn’t on the outside… was it?

Garrus leaned over and took Shepard’s hand, slowly leading it to the plates low on his abdomen.  “Touch here,” he whispered.

Shepard’s fingers hesitantly moved over the soft plates and Garrus moaned, tilting his head down and into her neck, nipping the flesh.  At his reaction her fingers sped up, making him cry out into her skin.

His erection pushed through the seam in the plates and Shepard yelped in surprise.  Garrus chuckled against her neck and then she chuckled, too.  Her hand began moving across the leathery skin of his cock, gasping as it kept hardening and lengthening.

“Holy shit, Garrus,” she muttered in amazement.  “I don’t know if this is even going to fit.”

Shepard, never one for sweet words, hooked Garrus’ neck with a hand and pulling him down on top of her as she leaned back, hair fanning across the white sheets.  “Fuck me,” she ordered him and he felt his cock jolt with excitement. 

Garrus thrust inside of her without any pretense.  The resistance was strong and, at first, Garrus was worried he had torn her apart from the inside

She was so tight and small and there was so much liquid – was she bleeding?  His panicked eyes went down to Shepard's face.  Her forehead was scrunched up in what looked like pain.

"Fuck," Garrus cursed, pulling out of her quickly. "Shit, Shepard, I'm sorry. Are you hurt? What can I do?"  
  
Shepard chuckled softly between her heaving breaths. "No, no, Garrus stop. I'm fine. You're just… bigger than I’m used to." She smiled at him gently and the expression melted his heart.  “It's fine, really, it just takes time to get it comfortably-"  
  
"Do you want a break?  We can-”  
  
"Garrus," Shepard cut him off, her voice forceful. Commanding. "You didn't hurt me. You could never hurt me," she added, reaching out to grab his throat, squeezing. "I can handle abuse.  Now fuck me like you mean it."  
  
Garrus shoved into her again and she yelped, but this time Garrus knew it was in pleasure.  He thrust into her hard and fast, making her gasp and groan, her hands clutching her own breasts, nails making deep furrows in the flesh.

He watched the way her hair spilled like blood over the pale sheets.  How tightly her eyes closed.  How she bit her lower lip.  How her hips swiveled underneath him in, rocking into him, her pelvis crashing into his as hard as he did into hers.

“I want to bite you,” he said suddenly, not meaning to voice it.  But like so much else, Shepard made it impossible to keep his thoughts - or hands, or mouth - to himself.

Shepard groaned, her hips bucking.  “Bite me?” she breathed.

He raised a talon to trace over the top of her breast.  “Here,” he growled.

Shepard chuckled breathily and said, “Then do it.”

“It will hurt,” he warned her.

“And?”

That surprised him.  “And… it will mark.”

Shepard smirked and leaned up, pressing his lips into his mouth.  “Quit talking and mark me.”

Garrus didn’t wait.  He pushed her back down to the bed and descended to her breast, his mouth plates sliding open and his teeth gnashing into the flesh.

Shepard let out a sharp cry but her hands caressed over his head, rubbing the spot under his fringe, her pelvis plowing into his.  Her hands scratched down the plates on his back, finding his leathery sides, nails digging in.  Garrus growled into her chest, the coppery taste of her blood filling his mouth and making his sight waver from lust.

When he pulled back from her, she was still smirking at him.  “Done already?” she teased.

Garrus pulled out of her, picked her up by the hips and tossed her onto her belly.  His talons dug into her hips, pulling her ass up and back.  He slid inside of her again, her panting and moaning becoming breathy.

“Fuck,” she whispered, shuddering.  “Garrus, harder.”

And he complied.  The only noise in the room was the wet, slightly obscene sound of their bodies cramming together and Shepard’s breathy moans.  Garrus couldn’t keep his own guttural groans from falling out of his mouth.

His climax was coming, taking his breath away and making his legs shake.  “Shepard,” he grunted.  “I need to come.”

“Then come,” she replied easily, turning her gorgeous head to look at him, her eyes hungry.  “Come inside me.”

Garrus gasped, cock twitching, and orgasmed in a rush.  He shuddered, leaning into Shepard heavily.

It took him a few moment to come back to his head.  His cock began to retract from her, sliding easily into his plates,  He rolled onto his side, pulling Shepard into him, breathing in her hair.

Shepard chuckled, her face resting on his cowl, her green eyes regarding him.  “I think we needed that.”

“I think you’re right...and thank you,” Garrus breathed, lowering his forehead to press into hers.

“Thank _you,”_ she returned, kissing his nose ridge before resting her head against his again.  “It’s been driving me insane this entire trip… the wanting.”

Garrus made a soft noise in the back of his throat.  “You have no idea, Shepard.”  

 

* * *

Shepard woke to a stabbing pain in her abdomen.  She buckled in bed, holding her stomach, sure that her insides were attempting to become her outsides.

Her moaning must have awoken Garrus because he got up quickly.  She expected him to ask what was wrong, to ask how he could help, to touch her naked back.  But he did not.

Shepard turned to look at him and found him clutching his face plates.

“Oh my God,” Shepard whispered hotly.  “Oh my God, we didn’t take anything.”

Garrus tried to speak, but his tongue had swollen so much that his mouth couldn’t form words around it.

Shepard got to her feet, wincing at the pain, and pulled a shirt and pants on, not worrying about underwear.  She had planned to run to a drugstore on her own, but Garrus was getting dressed too.  “I can do this, Garrus, stay here,” she told him, stumbling into her flats.

Garrus just shook his head as if to say, _I started this, I’m going to end it._

Shepard was in too much pain to protest.  The pair left the hotel room, practically running.

Shepard had known their species weren’t compatible.  She knew that anaphylactic shock was likely and not pretty.  Even so, in their moment of divine passion, all thought of the consequences fled out the window.

They bought allergy tablets - four boxes for each of them, despite each box having a week’s worth of pills inside - and paid quickly while the cashier looked at them with something between sympathy and amusement.

They popped their tablets immediately after paying and sat down on a bench outside, breathing in the cool air and allowing their bodies to adjust to the toxins and antihistamines.  

After a few moments, Garrus put his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, pressing his face plates against the top of her head.  

She leaned on him heavily, her heart beating wildly in her chest.  She had known Garrus wasn’t the fuck and leave type, that he had true affection for her. Even so, it was strange having him display it so readily.  Touch her so easily.  Kiss her so willingly. 

“I think I’m good enough to walk back,” Shepard said after a few minutes.  The fire in her stomach had reduced to a dull ache.

“Let’s go then,” Garrus murmured, his voice thick and wet sounding.  His tongue had evidently not reduced fully.

They walked back, hand in hand, a pair of new lovers against the rest of the galaxy.

* * *

Shepard was awoken from the best sleep she'd had in years by the shrill noise of her omni-tool. There was a distress call coming from a recognizable ID code; she was too tired to remember whose, though. Shepard scrambled for her earpiece on the bedside table, answering the call curtly, "Shepard."

"Shepard? Shepard, can you hear me?"  
  
Shepard's eyebrows furrowed. "Joker? Is that you? Speak up, I can't hear-"  
  
"Can't," he whispered back. Shepard could hear the panic in his voice. "Guards will be back any minute and if they find out I have an omni-tool-"  
  
"Guards?" Shepard repeated. Garrus groaned beside her, beginning to stir. "Where are you?"  
  
"Tijuana," Joker simpered quickly, voice rushed. "In jail. Shepard, you gotta come get me, they won't let me post my own bail, they are refusing to call the Alliance, they haven't fed me in two days-"  
  
Panic thundered in Shepard's heart. Her finger fumbled with the blankets, throwing them off of her. Garrus' grumbling became a murmured question of what was happening. She ignored him, stepping into a pair of panties and clasping a bra on as quickly as possible.  
  
"Joker, I'm coming," she said simply. "Hold on, I will be there as soon as I can catch a flight. Is the ship there?"  
  
"No, it's still in Flor – shit, they're coming. I gotta go, Shepard. Please, shit, please hurry, I didn’t kill her, I swear!" The call cut out and Shepard was left standing in the middle of the room with dead silence.  
  
"Fuck me," she groaned in annoyance. Before Garrus could snap a witty retort, she turned and tossed him a pair of his civilian pants. "Here, put these on while I call Kaidan. We're about to ruin his day. Again."  
  
"Remind me to get him something expensive for the next human holiday," Garrus murmured, not even bothering to ask what was going on. He knew Shepard and he knew better than to interrupt her process.  
  
Shepard placed the call to Kaidan, which was answered immediately. "Shepard, what happened?"  
  
"It's Joker," she responded, going to her bag and grabbing a white Alliance tank top. She pulled it over her head, continuing, "I just got a call from him. He's in jail… in Tijuana."  
  
"Goddamnit, what was that idiot thinking?" Kaidan cursed. "Are you two planning on going down there and bailing his dumb ass out of jail?"  
  
"Yeah," Shepard responded, searching for a clean pair of jeans in her bag. The only thing she found was a pair of cut-off shorts. She sighed, stepping into them. "This sounds like something else, though, Kaidan. He said the guards aren't feeding him or letting him place a call to the Alliance.  And something about, ‘I didn’t kill her.’"  
  
Kaidan cursed, the sound muffled. He was back in a second, murmuring, "Alright, I'll call the airport and have them cancel your seats to Florida. I'll try and track down a flight to TJ and get you two on it."  
  
"Thanks, Kaidan," Shepard breathed. "I owe you."  
  
Kaidan laughed softly, adding. "Well, then buy me a drink once we're all back on Florida sand."  
  
"Done," she agreed, ending the call. She turned to find Garrus, always efficient, packing up their belongings at lightning speed. He was already dressed.  
  
"Ready?" he asked her, shouldering their two bags.  
  
"Ready," Shepard agreed, leading him out of the room and into the early morning sun of Vancouver.  


* * *

  
On the drive to the airport, Shepard got a call from Kaidan. She answered with a, "What have you got?"  
  
"Shepard, I got you and Garrus a flight to San Diego, California. That's the closest I can get you to TJ since they’re currently in revolt. From San Diego, you're going to have to drive down into Tijuana. Try to fly under the radar as much as possible. Having an Alliance commander rummaging in their illicit dealings is bad enough, especially now that they're trying to form their own independent nation. But if the authorities find out there’s a Council Spectre mucking around – shit will hit the proverbial fan in seconds."  
  
"I don't do discreet very well, Kaidan," Shepard sighed.  
  
"Don't I know it," he responded with a snort. "Look, I got a pass for your car to go along with you so that you don't have to mess with a rental. You'll be flying into Naval Base Coronado, so you might run into a rookie who tries to take your guns or search the car. Please don't shoot them."  
  
Shepard tried to hide her smile but failed. "I will refrain from shooting any military. Anything else, Mom?"  
  
Kaidan was silent for a moment before he added, "Stay safe, Shepard; bring Joker back. And… keep Garrus out of trouble."  
  
Shepard smiled. "Will do, Lieutenant." She ended the call, glancing over to Garrus. "Well, let's go save the pilot's ass."  



	9. Dead Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is "Dead Sea," by The Lumineers. Enjoy!

**Day 7**

Naval Base Coronado was a testament to the stubborn will of humanity. The building had been destroyed four times in the past forty years; twice it succumbed to fire, once to a bomb, and the final time to a jet carrier's fuselage exploding.

Yet each time, the Coronado was rebuilt ‘bigger and better.’ It had become a running joke in San Diego that any day the base would get torn apart again. The officials at Coronado did not find this as amusing as the locals, of course.

Due to their misfortune over the decades, the Coronado became more tightly controlled and monitored. Shepard and Garrus were the only occupants of the massive carrier plane; even so, they had been forced to wait in the metal bird for over an hour while officials checked for explosives. Shepard knew it had been that long because she kept checking her omni-tool impatiently every few minutes.  
  
"Shepard," Garrus murmured, putting his hand gently on her bare knee. Her leg had been bouncing irritably and ceased at his touch. "Calm down."   
  
"I'm worried about Joker," Shepard admitted even though she knew it was obvious. "The more time they dick around under the plane, the more time those assholes have to hurt our pilot."   
  
Garrus thought about trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but he knew it would only make things worse. Shepard had crossed over the threshold of simple concern; nothing was going to bring her back until she saw that Joker was safe. So, Garrus leaned back in his chair and murmured comfortingly, "You are doing everything in your power."   
  
"I hope that's enough," she grumbled, her leg beginning to bounce again.   
  
A young man with a crew-cut and startling blue eyes poked his head into the cabin. "Commander Shepard? Welcome to Coronado, we’re sorry to keep you waiting.  I know you’re in a hurry, so I won’t ask how your flight was. If you and your companion could please step out of the cabin? We need to search you both for weapons."   
  
"Sure," Shepard replied quickly, getting out of her chair and practically hopping out of the compartment.  The officer had reached out to help her down, but she brushed past his hand without even glancing at the offering.  Garrus followed her closely, coming to stand next to her in the echoing hangar.

"Just so everyone is clear, I won't be giving up my gun," Shepard said as the officer came to stand in front of her.

"Understood, Commander," he replied crisply.  "I still have to check you so we have a record of what you’re carrying. Would you prefer I request a female officer?"

Shepard put her arms out to the side and spread her legs apart.  “Go for it, Ensign.”. The man had the decency to look uncomfortable as he stepped toward her.  He glanced over at Garrus more than once, probably having seen the vids of them together.  Probably thinking of all of the ways Garrus could tear his head off for touching Shepard.

The ensign did a quick skim of Shepard’s clothed areas – she was sure he was only being as casual as he was due to her rank. He did pause when he felt the gun in her hip holster but ended up saying nothing.

He pulled away, not bothering to check her shoes. "Commander Shepard is carrying one handgun in a hip holster," he reported into his earpiece. “Model?”

“Kassa Fabrications, Razer,” she replied smoothly.

He nodded and relayed the information before turning to Garrus, looking awkward. "Hello, sir. Do you mind if I begin?"

Garrus shook his head, putting his arms out to the sides. "Go ahead…" Garrus checked the man's fatigues, which read ENS Davidson. "Ensign Davidson." Garrus glanced over at Shepard, who had moved to the plane again to collect their baggage.

The man was much more thorough with Garrus and found his handgun immediately. The man pulled back, looking concerned. "Sir, I have to ask you to relinquish your firearm immediately."

Shepard was there in an instant, jogging the distance. "Davidson, he's with me. He's Citadel Security," she added.  It was a bit of a lie - he hadn’t officially taken up his rank yet.  Even so, Shepard was a smooth talker and little white lies never seemed to trip her up.

The man shook his head, his hand casually resting on the butt of his pistol.  It was still in its holster, but Garrus was surprised at the bold warning.

"Commander, I respect your friend's ability to carry firearms in Citadel Space, but unfortunately he has no jurisdiction on this base. We need to take the firearm and will return it to you at the front entrance."

Shepard shook her head. "Not good enough, Ensign.  If something happens here, I need him to have my back. He can't do that if you take his gun."  Her eyes regarded him coolly.  “I suggest you take your hand off of that before you make a big mistake.”  
  
The ensign's hand trembled slightly as he stared Shepard in the eyes. "Commander, please understand I cannot let someone who is not Alliance-"   
  
"Stand down, Davidson," a voice boomed from the hangar doors. The form was walking toward them, the harsh light accenting his craggy skin and grey-flecked hair. "If Commander Shepard trusts him, so do I."   
  
Davidson's hand dropped from his weapon and he turned to attention, saluting. "Yes Vice Admiral, sir."   
  
Shepard was grinning widely at the older man.  "Vice Admiral Baines." She stood straighter, raising her hand in salute while Garrus fell back, letting the military officials take center stage.   
  
The older man, Vice Admiral Baines, returned Shepard's salute. "At ease, everyone. Shepard, it's been quite a while. You were just a kid last time I saw you."   
  
Shepard laughed, sounding sheepish – it wasn't a tone Garrus expected out of her, given all that was happening. "Don't make me sound so old – do I need to remind you your hair was still mostly black back then?"   
  
"Still as cheeky as ever," Baines laughed, clapping his hand on Shepard's shoulder. "But you're not here to catch up.  Lieutenant Alenko put a call into me earlier and told me about the situation. Is there anything we can do to help?"   
  
Shepard shook her head. "No, sir, Garrus and I will be fine. We just need to get to our car."   
  
The Vice Admiral made a face. "I thought the petties were joking with me when they said that was yours. I know how well Alliance pays their commanders – why the old Mustang?"   
  
Shepard shrugged. "I've always wanted one." She smiled and saluted him again. "Sir, it was good to see you again. I hope you'll keep in touch?"   
  
"Of course, Commander," he agreed, returning the gesture. "Now go right through those doors and Ensign Peters will get you to that blue hunk of metal outside."   


* * *

  
"Baines was always around when I was in basic training," Shepard said as they drove, her speed easily pushing 80 miles an hour. "He was only a Commander back then; he'd come in and watch our drills sometimes, sit in and see our scores. He was always terrifying," she admitted with a grin. "He scared the crap out of me, but I respected him. He actually gave me a personal commendation and got me into N7. He's straightforward, blunt, and gets results – with his commendation, no one could keep me out."   
  
"He reminds me of you," Garrus hummed.   
  
Shepard smirked, glancing over at him. "Yeah? Don't try and butter me up, Vakarian. I've heard ego is a bad look on me." Garrus laughed softly, watching the empty road and scenery fly by in a rush of green and brown.   
  
As they got closer to the Mexican border, Shepard began to drum her fingers on the steering wheel. "Does it feel like we're slowing down?" she muttered, more to herself than to Garrus.   
  
"No," Garrus supplied anyway. "In fact, it feels like the car is about to rattle apart if you speed up any more."   
  
Shepard didn't answer, but the red needle on the speedometer edged toward 90. Garrus decided it was best to keep quiet until Shepard asked him something directly.   
  
A few miles later, Shepard pointed out a torn down chain-link fence that had patches of rusted metal and soggy wood scattered across its face. "That used to separate the United States from Mexico.  Well, it didn't do much to keep anyone in or out, but the fact we even tried is horrible."   
  
Garrus nodded, watching as they drove past the pieces of toppled metal. "Do they leave it there to remember?"   
  
Shepard nodded. "There's a festival every winter, right here on the border.  It's a beautiful thing. I went once, a few years back on shore leave. It's probably one of the most amazing gatherings I've ever seen."   
  
Garrus brushed her leg gently with his hand. "We should go."   
  
Shepard nodded. "Someday."   
  
They pulled off on the side of the road a few miles outside of the Tijuana city limits. Shepard rummaged through her bag of clothing, pulling out a pair of jeans and a dark tee shirt. The tee-shirt she tossed on over her Alliance tank top; she then stepped out of her cutoff shorts and quickly replaced them with the jeans. The sandals on her feet were replaced with her black boots. Her hair was kept down, windswept and looking absolutely gorgeous.   
  
Garrus admired her as she went through the motions of making herself look as un-Alliance as she could. Of course, there were certain things she couldn't hide.  The way her eyes followed everything, taking in every detail.  The way she strode with confidence and purpose.   
  
"Alright," Shepard sighed. "I'm not sure what or how we’re supposed to do this, so… let’s try and keep cool and play it by ear."   
  
Garrus shrugged. "Seems good to me. Go down to their little jailhouse, and ask nicely to collect Joker.  If that doesn't work, then we can pull our guns and ask a little more forcefully."   
  
Shepard smiled, but it was tinged with concern.  She got back into the car, Garrus following her lead. When he slid into the passenger seat, Shepard leaned over, her lips covering his mouth. When she pulled away, she murmured, "I realized I haven't done that today."   
  
And with that final sentiment, she shifted into her Commander Shepard facade and maneuvered them back onto the road. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Yeah, we have him," the jailer drawled as he leaned heavily against the front counter. He was picking his nails with that looked like a penknife. "What's it to you?"

"We're here to post his bail," Shepard said simply. Her hands were crossed over her chest as she leaned back against the wall, looking completely at ease and completely deadly in one moment.  
  
"Gringos aren't welcome here," the man murmured, unhurried.   
  
"Fine, noted. Let me collect him and the gringo won't be a problem," Shepard purred, her voice tinged with heat.   
  
" _Puta,_ hold your horses, eh?" the man snapped. "We haven't discussed payment."

Garrus’ translator didn’t catch the first word, but it seemed Shepard’s did - or she had known it prior.  Her face screwed up slightly, her brow furrowing and lips pursing.  She kept on track, though, growling, "What did he do to wind up here?"

Garrus could tell she was itching to resort to Plan B and pull her gun. Garrus stood on the other side of the room, eyes shifting between the jailer and the jailer’s lackey who was hovering in the back room.

"Murder," the jailer grumbled, finally putting the penknife on the counter. "He killed a woman in his hotel room."  
  
"That's not right, Shepard," Garrus said simply.   
  
"I know it's not," Shepard said, never taking her eyes off of the man in front of her. "Jeff couldn’t hurt a fly."   
  
The man shrugged. "Maybe not in your fancy city, but down here he thinks he can run wild."   
  
"What's his bail?" Shepard asked again.   
  
The man shrugged again. "What is his life worth to you?"   
  
Shepard slammed her hand on the counter in front of the man, making him jump. "Look, you oversized fuck, I don't give a goddamn about this corrupt shit you're pulling here in this farce of a town. I don't give a goddamn about the disagreement you're having with our United countries. All I want is my friend. Now give me a reasonable number or this is going to get ugly really fast."   
  
The man's watery eyes regarded her coolly. Finally, he stood to his full height - just a few hairs shorter than Shepard - and murmured, "Fine, _puta._ You want your friend back? He will cost you 150,000 credits."   
  
Shepard snorted back laughter. "I told you a reasonable number.  From what I can tell, he hasn’t even been properly booked for a crime.  You’re just trying to extort us."   
  
The man shrugged. "Either take it or leave it, _puta._ Your choice." He turned his back to her, a final show of disrespect, and began rolling a cigarette.   
  
Shepard met Garrus' eye and he nodded. Simultaneously, Shepard and Garrus had their weapons drawn and trained on their targets.   
  
"Hands where I can see them," Shepard ordered. The man dropped the rolling paper and put his hands to the side quickly, turning to take in the sight of her pistol only inches from his face. Garrus was disarming the lackey in the back room, who seemed to think it would be a good idea to draw a gun against a turian.   
  
"Who are you?" the man snapped, eyes wide. "You can't bring guns into my town!"   
  
"I'm Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy," she said simply, gun trained right between his eyes, "and you picked the wrong man to kidnap."   
  
Garrus was tying the lackey's hands behind his back with some packing twine he'd found. "Lead me to Jeff," he growled to the lackey. The kid bobbed his head anxiously, turning his sights from the armed turian to the armed commander.   
  
Garrus and the lackey disappeared into a side room and left Shepard and the jailer alone in the receiving area. The man was glaring daggers at Shepard through his watery brown eyes. "How dare you treat me like this, you Alliance scum," he growled, spitting on the counter. "You leave your own people behind and go protect the stars. Forget all of your brothers and sisters here!"   
  
Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "Do you really want to tempt me into pulling this trigger?"   
  
Garrus was having much better luck with the lackey. The string bean of a guy led Garrus straight to Joker's cell and even grabbed the key to the locked door out of his back pocket. Even with his hands tied, the kid was flexible.   
  
Garrus took the key and quickly unlocked the rusty old metal gate that was housing Joker. The flight officer was in the back of the cell, eyes closed, lips cracked and bleeding. His outfit was covered in old blood, but it didn't seem to be his.  
  
"Joker," Garrus called, stepping into the cell. It smelled horrible, like a latrine mixed with a decomposing pyjak. "Joker, get up."   
  
Joker's eyelids fluttered open and he took in the turian. "Garrus? Ah fuck," he grumbled. "What'd I do to deserve getting thrown into turian heaven?"   
  
Garrus chuckled, reaching down to help the man to his feet. "Easy, Joker. You're not dead yet."   
  
The flight officer gasped as he put weight on his leg. "Shit, shit, Garrus, I think it's broken," he groaned.   
  
"Easy," Garrus repeated. "Lean on me, alright? The car's right outside and you can have the whole backseat."   
  
"Joy," Joker wheezed through clenched teeth.   
  
Back in the main room, Shepard was leaning against the wall, her gun put away. Garrus was soon coming through the door, practically dragging an ashen Joker. "He broke his leg," Garrus informed her, moving as slowly and carefully as he could. "You got any medi-gel?"   
  
"Yeah, let's get him into the backseat," Shepard said, already moving to the front door.   
  
Garrus noticed the jailer on the ground and groaned. "Shepard, you shot him?"   
  
"No," she laughed softly. "I punched him after he decided to tell me why turians were the worst species out of the lot. I didn't realize a single punch would land him on his ass, but I'm pretty glad it did. He was getting on my nerves."   
  
Joker barely had the strength to move his head, but he managed to sloppily salute Shepard as Garrus dragged him by. "Commander. Thanks for finally making it. Took ya long enough."   
  
"Be glad I didn't decide to find a new pilot and save myself the trouble," she retorted, humor filling her voice. Despite his lack of decorum and inability to follow proper protocol, Shepard had always liked Joker. He reminded her of a little brother she'd never had.   
  
Garrus got Joker into the back seat after a lot of maneuvering and a few hysterical curses from Joker. That was the problem with the vehicle – only two doors meant getting the flight lieutenant into the back seat by way of the front. "Can you get his leg taken care of?" Garrus asked, "I'm going to go untie the kid and make sure you didn't kill the jailer."   
  
"I just punched him!" Shepard exclaimed, but she turned to Joker while chuckling. "Alright, Joker, try not to scream. We're still in hostile territory." She moved the driver seat forward, making a small space for her to squeeze in on the back seat floorboard.   
  
"Hah. Hah." Joker huffed.   
  
Shepard smiled, thought she was not happy about what she had to do. She felt his leg as gently as she could, but each prodding touch made him wince. "Joker, good news," she whispered. "It's not broken, just dislocated at the knee. You might have more damage, fractures maybe, but I can't tell for sure and I can't do anything about those, anyway. But I can at least take care of this knee."   
  
"Shit, this is going to hurt like a bitch," Joker groaned. "Something tells me you don't have as gentle a bedside manner as Chakwas."   
  
Shepard smirked. "Hey, Joker, maybe since you've been hanging out in prison for a while, we should move your bunk down into the brig?"   
  
"You know what, Shepard, screw you! I just went through-" Shepard took that moment to shove the joint back into place with a wet, sickening pop. Joker cut off mid-sentence, no air in his lungs to scream with. He panted for a few moments while Shepard prepared the medi-gel.   
  
"Good job, Joker," Shepard praised, dispensing the medi-gel directly into Joker's leg. "Just breathe and you'll feel better in a minute."   
  
"Bite me," Joker mumbled between clenched teeth. The medi-gel seemed to take the edge off quickly because he let out a suffering sigh and murmured, "I think I need a nap. And after a nap, I need a pizza."   
  
"Got it," Shepard smiled, getting to her feet and put the driver's seat back into place. She shut the door and turned to go back inside, curious what was taking Garrus so long.   
  
The second she opened the door, she heard a gunshot. Shepard's hand fell to her hip holster, grabbing her gun and silently moving toward the side room. She saddled against the wall, the stucco grabbing her jeans as she moved.   
  
The door to the side room flung open and the kid who Garrus had tied up stumbled out of it. He was bleeding from a gunshot wound on his side, a knife in his hand.   
  
The knife had blue blood on it.   
  
"Fuck," Shepard wheezed, her eyes focusing on the blood. Turian blood. Garrus' blood. The kid had turned and saw her, his eyes going wide and panicked. Without meaning to, really without even thinking, Shepard raised the gun and let off two shots – one struck him in the chest, the second in the neck. The slender man slumped to the ground, blood spilling over the dirty floor.   
  
"Garrus!" Shepard called out, turning the corner quickly and flinging herself into the stinking cellblock.   
  
The turian was against the far wall, a hand to his less protected, leathery side, his mandibles flaring wide. "Did you get him?" Garrus asked, holding his hand to the wound.   
  
“Jesus, Garrus," Shepard breathed, coming to his side. Her omni-tool hummed to life and she quickly scanned over the wound. "I can stop the bleeding but you're going to need stitches," she murmured. She prepared another dose of medi-gel, applying it to the wound. "What happened?" she asked, taking her black tee off and pressing it to the wound.   
  
"Damn kid got a knife out of his pocket," Garrus grumbled. "I was careless, I didn't check to see if he had a weapon."   
  
"Come on, hold this to it," Shepard murmured, helping him off of the wall, supporting some of his weight. She led him out to the car, putting the passenger seat back as far as it would go. She helped him into the seat, her Alliance tank flecked with excess blood from Garrus' shirt. "Lie back and sleep.  No arguments," she added when he opened his mouth. She leaned down, meeting his mouth with hers. "Sleep," she repeated when she pulled away.   
  
Garrus thrummed deeply, his voice flanging as he murmured, "Yes, ma'am."   
  
"Hey, I didn't get a kiss," Joker called from the backseat.  He sounded delightfully delirious   
  
Shepard snorted. "You're lucky you didn't get a kick in the shin." She shut the passenger door and went around the car, climbing into the driver's seat. "Alright, now let's see if I can get you two to the base without another disaster."   
  
As if on cue, her omni-tool buzzed with an incoming call from Kaidan. "Shit," she whispered, tapping her earpiece. "Kaidan, please tell me no one else has been kidnapped, thrown in jail, shot or stabbed."   
  
"Um, no, not that I'm aware of. Did you find Joker? Tough extraction?"   
  
Shepard laughed. "You could say something like that. Joker's fine aside from some light trauma-" at that, Joker scoffed from the backseat, "and Garrus got a non-fatal stab wound. I'm heading back to Coronado so they can patch these two up. We'll be on our way after that."   
  
"Good, ah…." Kaidan trailed off, an awkward silence filling the line. He coughed, then said, "Good job, Commander. I'll see you when you get here."   
  
"Sure… and Kaidan." She paused, unsure what to say. "Don't get too drunk before we get there. I think I owe all of us a few rounds."   
  
Kaidan laughed. "Damn straight. See you soon, Shepard."   
  
Shepard disconnected the line and glanced over at Garrus. He smiled, murmuring, "This was a little too intense of a shore leave for me, Shepard. I say next time, we go somewhere tropical and stay there."   
  
Joker snorted. "Amen to that."   
  
Shepard chuckled before pausing. Something was nagging at the base of her skull.  "Joker," she said suddenly, "I thought you were going to stay in Florida. How in the hell did you end up in a Tijuana prison?"   
  
Joker didn't reply, his silence stretching out like a blanket.  When she glanced at him in the rearview, his eyes were closed.  Even so, she thought she caught a glimmer of tears on his cheek.

Shepard knew he would talk when he was ready.  Shepard knew enough to not pry. 


	10. Heavy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is "Heavy In Your Arms," by Florence + The Machine.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: Weird, awkward sexual experience, grief and poor coping mechanisms, SUICIDE.**

**Joker -  Day 2**

  
The sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean had done something to him. It was unnerving, the change that this environment produced. It could have been because he was there alone, surrounded by lovers and gaggles of friends. For whatever reason, the ocean and the stars began to remind him of something.   
  
_ "Up through an empty house of stars, being what heart you are," _ he murmured to himself.   
  
The bartender, who was standing off to his left, cleaning a glass with a pristine white rag, glanced over at him.  “G.K. Chesterton," she said softly, watching him with chocolatey eyes.   
  
"What?" Joker asked, looking confused.   
  
The bartender smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "The poem… it's by Chesterton. He's one of my favorites.  I used to recite him every Armistice Day at our family gatherings."   
  
Joker smiled, really smiled, at the girl. At first glance, the bartender was pretty average – she was slender, average complexion, caramel hair, and dark eyes. But there was something in her non-smile that reminded him….   
  
Of her.   
  
"One of my old friends used to be obsessed with ancient poetry," he admitted, feeling something close to a lump forming in his throat. It was the first time he'd mentioned Ashley since his talk with Shepard after Ash died. None of the crew had known how close he and Ashley had begun to grow. No one knew that some mornings, before her duties, she would come onto the bridge and sit beside him.  He could still see her in his mind’s eyes - cross-legged on the floor, hair wet from the shower and loose, not in its strict bun yet.  The smell of simple soap on her skin, simple shampoo in her hair.  Sometimes she'd read poetry, sometimes she would just sit and watch the stars.   
  
He'd never told anyone.  Probably never would.   
  
"You lost the friend? In the war?" she added, nodding toward his Alliance tee shirt.   
  
Joker forced a laugh. "What, do I look that bad that you think I was in the war?"   
  
The bartender shrugged, leaning onto the bar. "You look sad. Like you've lost something and you don't know how to get it back. It's probably not at the bottom of that glass, either," she added, though she sounded anything but judgmental.   
  
Joker rolled his eyes anyway. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your livelihood depends on me drinking these, you know? Don't try to convince me it's all in vain." He paused for a moment before adding, "My name's Joker. I'm a Flight Lieutenant with the Alliance."   
  
The girl smiled without smiling again. "I know who you are, Jeff Moreau.”  Joker opened his mouth to ask her how she knew, but she cut him off.  "Hey, I’ve gotta help my other customers.  If you're not doing anything in an hour, stick around and take me to dinner."   
  
Joker cocked an eyebrow. "You just got done calling me a sad lonely drunk and now you want to have dinner with me?"   
  
"Only if you're buying," she shrugged. "Alliance pays pretty well, I hear." She moved to the other side of the bar, helping a new patron.   
  
Joker watched the bartender move around the bar with fluid effortlessness; she was in her own world, eyes lost in some place that he felt like he couldn't reach. _ She's just like Ash, _ he thought, sadness enveloping him.   
  
He knew he would be asking for trouble if he stuck around.  If he took her to dinner.  If something else happened after that.  He knew nothing about her, for one - didn’t even know her name.  She might be planning to rob him.  She might just be looking for a one-night thing.  While Joker was certainly not opposed to one-night-stands, there was something about her.  

She was like Ash.  She was different, special, and he didn’t want to get involved with someone special for only one night.

In spite of his own logic, he loitered at the bar while sipping beer until closing. The bartender cleaned up the glasses and the tables before waving him over toward the door. "I know this sad little diner that's just perfect."

"Sad little diner. Sounds fabulous," Joker muttered making her smile faintly.   
  
"Come on, funny man. It's around the corner."   
  
They were the only patrons at the so-called sad diner. At first glance, Joker figured it was because it was 3 am and most people with sense were in bed. He then realized he was on a beachfront party town, which meant the clubs probably didn't close until 5 am. They'd have a couple of hours before the drunken rabble made it in.   
  
"I think," the woman began, eyes going over the menu, "I am going to have a feast tonight. You are welcome to partake if you'd like.”    
  
"I'd hope so if I'm buying," Joker chuckled.   
  
"Well, if you’re buying then we are having one of everything on the menu."   
  
"Where are you going to put it all?" Joker demanded, eyes glancing over her tiny frame.   
  
"I have a freakishly high metabolism," Lynn admitted. "I have to take snack breaks at work every few hours so I don't starve. My mom and dad had one of those in-vitro procedures done on me in womb –our family has a predisposition to weight gain and nearsightedness. They corrected both, but it seems like the weight gain thing was a little too good. I don't think I've gained a pound since I was seventeen."   
  
"Most people wouldn't complain about that," Joker pointed out.   
  
She shrugged and was saved from answering when their waitress appeared at their elbows. "Good morning, Helen,” she murmured to the woman. "My friend and I would like to order an omelet with everything on it, two orders of the mile high pancakes, two Belgian waffles, one with strawberries and the other with blueberries… and if we could also get a slice of chocolate pie later, that would be divine."

The waitress wrote down the order without even a blink of confusion. "Sounds good, Lynn. What would you both like to drink? The usual?"

_ Lynn,  _ Joker thought.  The name was familiar, though he couldn’t place why.  He was sure he’d never met a Lynn before, but for some reason….

"Yes, thanks," she smiled. Helen finished writing down their order before sauntering away.   
  
Joker cocked an eyebrow. "I haven't seen anyone eat so much in one sitting, and I've seen biotics eat. That's pretty impressive."   
  
"It's not all for me.”   
  
Joker laughed. "Well, unlike your skinny ass, I have to watch my weight. I can't go take a jog and burn calories."   
  
Lynn's smile faded a bit and she murmured, "Yeah, I noticed the limp."   
  
"It's nothing exciting.  No war injury with a good story or anything.   Just a disorder I was born with. Vrolik's Syndrome."   
  
Lynn smirked at him, one of her brows raising.  Joker felt like he was missing a huge puzzle piece that only Lynn had access to.  Finally, she said, “I know, Joker.  My sister told me.”   
  
Pieces clicked together instantly. His voice shaking, Joker asked, "Your sister?"   
  
Lynn nodded, "My sister was a Gunnery Chief with the 212th, but she was later reassigned to the SR-I Normandy.”   
  
"Ashley," he breathed.   
  
Lynn's eyes never wavered from his.  “Yes.”   
  
The waitress returned with their drinks – two large chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream and a cherry on top. "Enjoy," she said before going back to the kitchen.   
  
"She'd mentioned she had sisters, but-" Joker began.   
  
Lynn shrugged, sipping her milkshake.  "She told us all about you.”   
  
Joker blinked at her, over and over, not believing his eyes or his ears.  Her sister was in front of him, plain as day, sipping a milkshake.  Her sister who had somehow known who Joker was the first time she laid eyes on him.  "I… I don’t know what-”

Lynn reached out, running a thumb over his lower lip, caressing across his chin.  She smiled her smile that wasn’t quite a smile.  “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.  Let’s just… sit.  And if we think of something… we’ll go from there.”   
  
She pulled back from him and Joker instantly regretted her absence.  Her thumb had been warm and soft, like a favorite blanket.  He didn’t say anything, though, and busied himself with sipping from his milkshake.

Lynn chuckled suddenly. "You know, I remember one of Ashley's video logs she sent us – God, it was hysterical. She was there with the commander and they were trying to pull a turian out from under this vehicle-"

"Ah, shit, I forgot about that!" Joker exclaimed. "I wasn't there for it, but she showed me the vid later. I guess Garrus was trying to show off to Shepard, showing her what he was working on – calibrating is, like, his life or something. _And_ he forgot to make sure the Mako jack was locked. So he gets under this vehicle which he can just barely fit under, and asks Shepard to crank the jack so the vehicle would lift up high enough for him to show her the mod."   
  
"In his full suit of armor," Lynn added.   
  
"Yeah! So, Shepard, who by the way knows nothing about Makos and repairing them, starts cranking the jack, not knowing that it isn't locked in place under the vehicle." Joker's voice was rising in his storytelling, his hands waving. Lynn’s smile was tilting wider. "So, this jack, of course, slides out from under the vehicle and WHAM! Down the Mako comes right on Garrus! He's pinned under it by his armor. He's waving his arms and legs, looking like a turtle on its back, yelling for Shepard to get it off of him."   
  
Lynn covered her face, chuckling. "Thank God Ash thought to get a vid of it." 

Joker grinned, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "That was classic. We had some great blackmail material for a bit. But then it was decided it was more embarrassing for Shepard. She's, like, this big shot Spectre and can't even get a jack under a Mako."

The two slowly calmed down and Lynn, face a pale pink from laughing, murmured, "She always respected Shepard. Wouldn't shut up about her at first. Of course, she didn't really agree with all the time Shepard spent with the aliens at first…" Lynn shrugged. "But then, one day, she called me and said something I never thought I'd hear."   
  
"That she'd fallen in love with her flight lieutenant?" Joker interrupted, only half-joking.   
  
Lynn rolled her eyes. "That she went up to the krogan and asked him to help her with her hand-to-hand."   
  
Joker raised an eyebrow. He didn't know about this. "She did?"   
  
Lynn nodded sagely, sipping her milkshake. "And he actually did. They sparred and talked about their differences. I will always remember how surprised she was when she told me that, under that rough exterior, Wrex was just a soldier trying to do right by his people. Just like she was."   
  
Their food arrived and the two tucked into the meal with gusto, sharing stories about Ashley as they did. When they had polished off every plate, including the pie, Lynn leaned back in her seat and regarded Joker. "I am leaving for Mexico.”   
  
Joker raised an eyebrow. "When? Like, right now?"   
  
Lynn shrugged. "Yeah. I just got in from Brazil last month and decided to hang out here for a while. Now I feel like it's time to move on again."   
  
"Why Mexico? Or Brazil, for that matter?" Joker asked, beginning to feel concern for this girl's mental state.   
  
"Well," Lynn drawled, "I went to Brazil because that's where Ashley was first stationed. She'd write home and tell me about all of these cool things to see and bars to party in when I joined up with the Alliance." Lynn chuckled softly. "I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no interest in carrying on the family's military service."   
  
"So, you retraced her footsteps through her letters?" Joker surmised. Now her moving around made sense.   
  
Lynn nodded. "After Brazil, she had a short stint here before being shipped out. I am going to Mexico because it was where she said she would take me to celebrate my 21st birthday." She smiled sadly.   
  
Joker nodded, watching the girl for a few moments. "Well," he began slowly, "if you're looking for someone to tag along for a while, I've got 11 more days until I have to be back on duty."   
  
Lynn smirked at him.  “Oh yeah?"   
  
Joker didn’t know how to react with Lynn.  She was a complete enigma - her cherubic face had no tells.  Or, at least, none Joker could see. "I've got nothing better to do,” he said.  “When do you wanna go?"   
  
Lynn's smile was mischievous. "As soon as we can hitch a ride."   
  
"You're joking, right?" he asked, concern creeping up again.  “I can rent a car-”

“Hitching is more fun,” she said with a smile.

“It’s also more dangerous.”

“I know,” she grinned.  “Fun.”

* * *

  
  
**Joker - Day 3**

They sat in the back of a red hovercar driven by the oldest man Joker had ever seen.  The man never seemed to stop smoking - it was like his cigarettes magically replaced themselves while Joker blinked.

The ride wasn’t too bad aside from the vehicle making a god-awful sound whenever the driver turned left. Luckily, it didn't happen often. 

"Do you hitchhike often?" Joker finally braved to ask Lynn.  The air conditioning was busted, so the windows were down.  The air whipping in through the car threatened to carry Joker’s voice away.   
  
Lynn shrugged, munching on some crackers she'd picked up at their last refueling stop. "If I have a cute riding companion or if the driver's hot," she purred.   
  
Joker snorted. "Really? And which reason was this?"   
  
Lynn made a face. "I'll give you a shot to guess at that one."   
  
"Cute, huh?" Joker prodded. "I guess that's better than creaky. I got that a lot back in flight training."   
  
"That's not very nice," Lynn said, but she couldn't hide the small smile her lips. "You're more cute than creaky, I'd say."   
  
"You're too kind," Joker grinned. After a few moments pause, he murmured, "I think this is the most fun I've had since Ash…."   
  
Lynn nodded. "Me too."   
  


* * *

 

**Joker - Day 4**

 

They arrived in western Tijuana late in the evening, stinking of cigarettes and having eaten nothing but refueling station snacks for two days.  There had been talk of a big dinner somewhere fancy, but Lynn seemed to have changed her mind when they walked past a cafe with a rich, heavenly aroma spilling out of it.

“Here,” she said, nodding.  “I want to eat here.”

Joker was happy to oblige.

Joker had tried to talk to Lynn about herself, but Lynn was as evasive as usual.  Somehow the conversation ended up on Ashley each time, and someone Joker didn’t realize until it was too late.

“She talked about you all the time,” Lynn was saying while digging into her plate of cabrito.  “She would send me pings, poems that reminded her of you.  It was all very chaste, very romantic, just like her,” Lynn laughed.  “She was an idiot.”

Joker nearly choked on his machaca burrito.  “What?”

“For being so chaste,” Lynn clarified between bites, shrugging.  “She wanted you and she didn’t do anything about it, and then she died.  I know I’m sounding like a bitch,” she added quickly before Joker could say anything.  “But seriously.  Dying with that kind of regret?  Never telling someone you loved them?  Never getting to feel their skin on yours?  I need to get laid before I die,” she added, her eyes meeting his.  “Don’t you agree?”

Joker couldn’t find his voice.  Her eyes were boring into his very soul.  “I… I think her way was best for her.”

“Was it, though?” she pressed.  “Was it best for you?”

“Who knows,” Joker sighed.  “Maybe.  Maybe things would have been worse if we’d made it a thing before she….”

“Died, Joker,” Lynn said.  “She died.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat.  “She died.”

Lynn went back to her plate and didn’t say anything until they’d finished their meals and their orders of tres leches cake.  They wandered through the cooling night air for a while before Lynn tugged on his arm.  “Let’s get a room.”

“ _ A _ room?” he repeated.

She smirked at him.  “Scared?”

“No, I just-”

But then she was gone, flitting away from him, her long, caramel hair shimmering in the street lights.

Joker followed her into the hotel, an old stucco building with a bakery below it.  Lynn paid for the room herself, much to Joker’s annoyance, and then led him up the stairs to where their room overlooked the ocean.

“Go take a shower, you smell like cigarettes,” Lynn chided him.

“So do you,” he retorted, making her smile.

He quickly showered, enjoying the feeling of hot water after almost three days without it.  His shore leave was certainly not going the way he had planned, but he was glad for that.  He had honestly expected to just get drunk on the beach, alone, and then return to his room to masturbate to whatever fetish porn would make him feel the most disgusting.

It wasn’t healthy, of course, but that had never stopped him before.

When he toweled off and changed into some Alliance sweat pants and a hoodie, he returned to the main room.  Lynn was stripped down to her underwear, brushing out her torrents of hair.  She caught sight of him in the mirror and smirked.

“Thought you might have drowned in there,” she said, even though he’d only been gone for about eight minutes.  She put the brush down on one of the nightstands and went into the bathroom without a word.

Lynn, unlike Joker, did take a while in the shower.  Joker loitered near the couch, assuming that would be where he was for the night.  He thought about going downstairs and getting his own room - after all, he didn’t want to make a wrong move on the couch and break something.

He finally settled for sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting to hear Lynn’s thoughts on the sleeping arrangements.

Her thoughts became very clear when she emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing, her tanned skin mottled with water droplets.  Her eyes never left his as she walked toward him, her slender fingers pulling his hoodie up and over his head.

Joker looked up at her, eyes regarding her warily.  He hadn’t anticipated this - hadn’t even wanted it, honestly.  But she was here in front of him, she was willing, and she looked like Ash.

He wasn’t proud of it.  He knew it was a disgusting reason to ever get into bed with anyone.  But in that moment, he didn’t care.

He reached up to her hips, hands smoothing over the soft flesh there.  He had imagined Ash’s skin would feel the same - like velvet. His hands traveled up her sides and cupped her breasts, squeezing them, flicking his thumbs across and around her nipples, enjoying her soft sounds of pleasure as he did so.

She pushed him back onto the bed gently before pulling his sweatpants off.  Her mouth descended between his legs and stars exploded in front of his eyes.  He tried not to remember Ash, he tried to stay in the moment, but all he could think of was the older sister and the way her wet, dark hair would look in the cockpit, lit by terminals and stars.

Joker felt his release coming on, too quickly and too forcefully, when Lynn pulled back,  She climbed on top of him carefully, being sure not to put too much weight on him.  She leaned down, kissing him deeply while moving her hips, her slick sex sliding over his engorged cock.

“Lynn,” he whispered, only barely remembering her name.  Only barely catching himself from saying, _Ashley._

She moaned into his mouth and angled her hips perfectly so that with her next sweep, he slid inside of her.

Joker bit back a cry of pleasure, instead grunting into her neck as she rode him.  Her breasts swept over his chest as she moved, her pace speeding up, her breath coming out in quick, ragged bursts.

“Jeff,” she whispered and her voice sounded just like Ashley’s.

Joker gasped and tried not to explode inside of her.

“Say her name,” she whispered into his ear, her breath wet and warm while she nipped his earlobe.

Joker floundered in confusion, unable to catch his breath,  “What?  Lynn-”

“Not my name,” she insisted.  “Say her name.”

Joker’s voice got lodged in his throat, but she began moving faster, harder, her pelvis sliding against his with enough force to make him wince.  But it didn’t hurt - not yet, anyway.  It felt like closure.  It felt like release.

“Ashley,” he whispered, and the moment her name left his lips, Lynn was orgasming above him, shuddering and jolting against him.

Joker watched her writhe above him and reached up to touch her face, to caress her neck, to grip her sides, to feel her ribs beneath the skin.

When Lynn came down, her hip swivels slowed but became deeper.  She leaned down into him, breathily whispering in his ear, “Jeff.  I want you to say our names when you come.”

“Lynn-”

“Not yet, wait,” she insisted, speeding up.

Joker wasn’t far behind her.  He felt the pressure building within him, the urge to let it all out.  “Lynn,” he panted, gripping her hips tighter.

“Yes,” she urged.

“Fuck, I-”

“Say her name, Jeff.”

Joker gritted his teeth.  There was a pain there in the base of his skull.  He didn’t want to say her name, but he desperately did.  He needed to.

“Ashley,” he groaned.

“Louder,” Lynn tempted him, her hips speeding up.

“A- Ash-”  he gritted his teeth and groaned past the sudden breaking of the dam, the orgasm coursing over and through him,  “Lynn, fuck, Lynn,” he wheezed.

Lynn covered his mouth with hers, tongue sliding into his mouth as he rode the last waves of his climax.  When he stilled, so did Lynn, but she stayed on top of him, not moving, barely even breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, the realization of what they’d done fully sinking in.

Lynn smirked at him.  “For what?  Now you have your closure.  And maybe, if there’s an afterlife somewhere, Ash does, too.”

Joker would have pointed out that she probably didn’t want her little sister fucking the object of her affections, but he let it go.  

Lynn slid off of him smoothly, curling her body around his.  “It was kind of closure for me, too,” she said softly.

Joker didn’t know what she meant, but he was too nervous to ask.

 

* * *

**Joker – Day 5**

  
Joker awoke in higher spirits than he had since Ashley’s death. The hot summer sun bore in through the open windows, the midmorning noise of Tijuana filtering in. The smell of freshly baked bread was filling the room from the bakery beneath them.   
  
Joker glanced down at the sleeping girl beside him. She was so young and flawless – he took a moment to watch her honeyed skin glisten in the sun as she breathed easily. He ran a hand gently down her side, feeling the smooth bare skin, free of dimples, scars or birthmarks.   
  
She stirred and her eyes opened.  Joker opened his mouth to apologize - he’d wanted to go downstairs and get her breakfast before she woke up.

Lynn just smiled at him softly, her smile that wasn’t really a smile, and murmured, “I’m craving doughnuts.  Not from that place downstairs, though.  We saw a cute little bakery a mile up the road.  Could you?”

Joker would have pointed out that the bakery below them looked a million times nicer, but Lynn had spent the entire night and morning bringing him to climax after crushing climax.  If she wanted a doughnut from San Diego, he probably would have obliged her.

“Sure,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.  

She returned the gesture with a faint chuckle before gently pushing him away.  “I need to brush my teeth.”  She got to her feet and wandered around the room, getting her items together and putting them in her bags.  She picked a penknife out of her bag and brought it over to Joker.  “Ash got this for me on my sixteenth birthday.”

Joker looked it over.  At the bottom, there was an engraving.   _ Whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling _

“E.E. Cummings,” Joker said, nodding.  “She would quote it all the time.”

Lynn nodded, her smile sad but genuine.  “I need to brush my teeth.  You get going.”

And so he did.

By the time he returned to the hotel, he knew something was wrong.  There was a stillness in their room that hadn’t been there before.  Everything was quiet and Lynn was not in the main room.

_ She skipped out on me,  _ he realized, his heart sinking somewhere deep in his stomach.

He tossed their food onto the side table - a box of a dozen doughnuts, all with silly icing faces and sprinkles.  The way Ash had liked her doughnuts.  The stein of coffee followed suit and Joker stormed into the bathroom to take a shower.

And then he found Lynn.

She was in the tub, the water red with the blood still oozing out of her wrists.  Ashley’s penknife had been placed lovingly beside her on the tub’s lip, the blade covered in red.

“Lynn!” he shouted and tossed himself to the side of the tub, grappling with her wet body, the slackness in her arms.  She was still warm but she wasn’t breathing.

Joker held her, tears falling from his eyes.  He couldn’t believe she had done this.  He hadn’t believed he didn’t see all of the warning signs - all of her maudlin statements, her talk about death.

He had thought she was depressed about Ashley.  He hadn’t even considered this.

He put a call into the local police and went into the main room, his hands shaking.  That was when he found a note on top of the dresser under the mirror Lynn had brushed her hair at.

_ I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m sorry I did this to you.  I just needed to feel you, to feel her, one last time.   Whatever is done by only me is her doing, too.  I hope you don’t hate me for this.  What I thought of as a gift.  A gift to you. To her. To me. _

_ I love you because she loved you.  And now that I did this one last thing for her, for you, for me… I can do nothing else. _

_ -Lynn Williams _

At the bottom of the note was a quickly scrawled poem.

_ Dear as remembered kisses after death, _

_ And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned _

_ On lips that are for others; deep as love, _ __  
__  
_ Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; _ __  
__  
_ O Death in Life, the days that are no more! _ __  
_  
_ __ -Tears, Idle Tears by Lord Tennyson

 

* * *

 

Joker found himself wandering down the street outside of the hotel, covered in Lynn’s blood, swaying in confusion and reeling from what had happened. What she’d done to herself. What she’d done to him.   
  
It was right about that moment when something large and heavy slammed into the back of his head, making him black out.   
  
When he awoke, he was in a cell, bleeding from the back of his head and covered in Lynn’s blood.   


 

* * *

  
  
**Day 7**

  
Garrus smiled, murmuring, "This was a little too intense of a shore leave for me, Shepard. I say next time, we go somewhere tropical and stay there."   
  
Joker snorted. "Amen to that."   
  
Shepard chuckled before pausing. Something was nagging at the base of her skull.  "Joker," she said suddenly, "I thought you were going to stay in Florida. How in the hell did you end up in a Tijuana prison?"   
  
Joker didn't reply, his silence stretching out like a blanket.  When she glanced at him in the rearview, his eyes were closed.  Even so, she thought she caught a glimmer of tears on his cheek.

Shepard knew he would talk when he was ready.  Shepard knew enough to not pry.  Instead, she forced cheer into her voice.  "After we get you two patched up, I think ice cream is in order. Surely San Diego has a dextro- levo- friendly ice cream shop."   
  
"San Diego is an everything-friendly place," Joker agreed, his tone even but sad.  “Thanks, guys. For coming."   
  
Shepard looked into the rearview, meeting Joker's gaze. She smiled at him softly, murmuring, "You're one of the crew. You're one of us. There's no way we'd leave you behind."   
  



	11. Little Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This is THE END of Part 1. Part 2, _Once More, With Feeling,_ will be released starting tomorrow. Keep an eye out!
> 
> This chapter's title song is "Little Talks," by Of Monsters and Men.

**Day 9 - 13**

Shepard, Garrus, Kaidan, and Joker had come to a unanimous decision to ignore Udina's order to return to the Citadel early. As Shepard reminded everyone, shore leave had been approved by the Council, and who were they to disobey?

The three humans and turian spent the final days of their shore leave on the beach – Shepard had even been convinced, after imbibing a large amount of alcohol, to purchase a bikini and get a tan. This was met with quite a few cat calls from Joker - who was threatened with being thrown in the brig - and appreciative hums from Garrus - which was met by a flirtatious wink.  
  
The days passed too quickly and the group of four found themselves back aboard their rented ship before they knew it. The Council had already sent over a list of hotspots of reported geth activity. Shepard decided to pick her battles on this; if the Council wanted her chasing geth instead of looking for Reapers, then that is what she would do…for now.  
  
As the vessel entered the Mass Relay on a course for the Citadel, Garrus made his way up to the captain's cabin. He found Shepard at her small office area, poring over a miniature holo map of the Traverse.  
  
"Have a moment?" he asked gently as he entered.  
  
Shepard turned; her eyes were unfocused, as if still in thought. "Garrus, what's going on?"  
  
Garrus shrugged, coming to lean against her desk. "Nothing, I just wanted to… talk. Before we get to the Citadel."  
  
A strange look passed over Shepard's face before being replaced with her calm, cool mask. She watched him with carefully guarded eyes, as if wary.  
  
"Shepard, what happened on Earth-"  
  
"I know.  It was fun, but... a one-time thing," Shepard interrupted. Her voice was level, emotionless.  
  
Garrus felt as if she had just shot him point-blank. He hadn't expected tears and heartfelt I love you's, sure, but he also didn't expect she'd insinuate they were a mistake. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head, before murmuring, "What?"  
  
“Don’t worry, I get it.  I won’t be a lovesick fool and neither will you.  It was fun and now it’s done.”  Shepard offered him one of her half smiles, her head dipping back down to the holo map.  
  
Garrus stood awkwardly, trying to discern if everything he had seen on Earth was a lie. If Shepard was really as unattached as she made herself out to be. "Well, I guess that’s it," he murmured before turning on his heel, heading back to the door.  
  
The door slid open with a low hum and he got into the elevator, feeling his hands shaking in… rage? Despair? He wasn’t sure.  The elevator closed, waiting patiently for him to tell it where to go.  
  
_I love her,_ he allowed himself to admit internally. _I love her and she just brushed me away. She never felt anything. She never…._ __  
  
_No,_ he thought more forcefully. _No, she feels something. She has to feel something!  Branson wasn’t an act.  Seattle wasn’t an act.  Vancouver was definitely not an act._  He slammed a taloned thumb on the 'open doors' button and went right back into Shepard's room, not knocking.  
  
Shepard was still sitting at her desk, but this time, her head was buried in her upturned palms. She jumped when he entered and wiped furiously at her face before turning slowly. "Garrus, was there something else?"  
  
Garrus heard the slight tremor and noticed the smears of mascara at the corner of her eyes. He strode the last few steps until he was beside her chair. He grabbed the back of it, pulling it away from the desk and gripped Shepard by the shoulders. He pulled the commander against him, brushing her hair away from her tear-stained face.  
  
"Don't ever lie to me, Shepard," Garrus whispered softly.  
  
Shepard’s shoulders kept jumping in withheld tears. Her face buried into his tunic as she swallowed over and over past a lump in her throat. "I just…" Shepard was trying to breathe deeply, to control her emotions. "I don’t want to lose your friendship.  I don’t want to make this weird.  I thought you wanted a clean break.  So I….”  She trailed off, raising her eyes to meet his.  “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind without you.”  
  
Garrus pulled away slightly, meeting Shepard's eyes. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked softly.  
  
Shepard shook her head forcefully. "No, Garrus, you need to go back to C-Sec. I tore you away from them once and your father hated us for it. I need you to do your duty and maybe, when we find out more about the Reapers.…" she trailed off, letting her words hang in the air.  
  
"When you find out what the Reapers are up to," Garrus finished for her, "then I will be the very first C-Sec officer who requests a transfer to the SR-I Normandy."  
  
Shepard chuckled, wiping at her eyes. "I wasn't supposed to cry. I went through this goodbye a million times in my head and I never cried."  
  
"It's not goodbye yet," Garrus said gently, stroking Shepard's cheek gently. "We still have a few hours before we get there. Besides," he added, voice lowering, "I can bother you all I want. I have your omni-tool identifier, after all."  
  
Shepard laughed softly, meeting his eyes finally. "Is that a threat, Vakarian?"  
  
"It's a promise, Shepard," he returned smoothly, leaning down to meet her lips with his.  


* * *

  
The docking bay was crowded with Normandy crew returning to the ship. There was a flurry of activity as petty officers and ensigns moved to get aboard. Only three people waited, and those three were met with a livid Udina.  
  
"What the hell took you so long?" he demanded, dark cheeks flaring a vivacious red.  
  
The female of the group smirked, crossing her arms over her chest – a chest that, instead of N7 armor, was covered with a thin white Alliance tank top. The unofficial shirt was paired with her cutoff shorts and a pair of flip flops from Earth. "It's great to see you, too, Udina," she greeted.  
  
"Shepard! You have some nerve showing up in front of me dressed like some common street rat!"  
  
Shepard shrugged an extremely tanned shoulder, the movement as graceful as it was dismissive. "I didn't come to the dock to see you, Udina. I came to say goodbye to one of my men. He's rejoining C-Sec," she added.  
  
The turian of the group nodded to Udina. "It's always a pleasure, Udina," he said in a polite tone that, somehow, made it obvious he meant the exact opposite.  
  
Udina's cheeks were growing purple. "I have had it with the both of you! How dare you cause such a spectacle-"  
  
"Kind of like the one you're causing now, sir?" the human male asked from Shepard's other side. Shepard turned, offering Kaidan a grin.  
  
Udina took a deep breath and looked as if he was counting to ten. "Get out of my sight!" he said finally, grumbling something about _learning her place_ and _damned aliens._ He turned, shuffling away from the docking bay.  
  
Kaidan was the first to react. He stepped toward Garrus, offering the turian his hand. "Sad to see you go, Vakarian," he said.  
  
The turian shook his hand with a smile. "I’m sad to leave. But you'll do just fine without me."  
  
Shepard turned her gaze to Garrus, offering him a gentle grin and a hand. "So long, Garrus. Until next time."  
  
Garrus took her hand, shaking it firmly. "Until next time, Shepard." He smiled, adding, "You know where to find me if you're ever on the Citadel between now and then."  
  
Shepard nodded. She said nothing, but Garrus noticed a slight tremble in her chin; it was so slight that he doubted anyone else would have seen it.  
  
"Well, Commander," he said, releasing her hand. "Take good care of yourself. You won't have me there to make sure you're eating and sleeping regularly."  
  
Shepard laughed. "Thanks, Garrus. I'll try."  
  
Garrus turned, but Shepard grabbed his arm, turning him back around.  She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his mouth plates, a hand caressing over his mandible and down to his neck.  Garrus wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, relishing the last contact he would have with her in a while.  In at least a few months.

When they parted, Shepard whispered,  “I’m gonna miss you, Garrus Vakarian.”

Garrus smiled and squeezed her to him tighter.  “I’m gonna miss you, Jane Shepard.  Keep yourself safe.  I mean it.  Come back alive.”

She tried to smirk at him, but it came out sad.  “I’m Commander Shepard, Garrus.  I’m coming back alive.”

Garrus reluctantly pulled away from her, steeling himself for a new chapter of his life.

Or would this count as an old chapter, since he was just returning to C-Sec? _But it's C-Sec post-Shepard,_ he rationalized to himself as he walked away from her. _Definitely a new chapter… I wonder how long I can last with the C-Sec rules after tasting that freedom of working with a Spectre._

When Garrus turned back, Shepard was nowhere to be seen. Kaidan was still there and he waved a goodbye. The turian returned the gesture, feeling his heart sink a bit. He knew the necessity of Shepard to keep up some semblance of appearances.  She had already broken decorum with the kiss.  
  
It wasn't until much later that night, when Garrus got settled into his C-Sec provided apartment, that he checked his omni-tool. There were a few messages about reinstatement to Security, as well as orientation forms he would need to complete. But there, at the bottom, was a decrypted message from a very familiar identifier.  
  
He accessed the message, which said simply:  
  
_G-_

_I don't know how I am going to do this without you. But I am going to do my best – for the both of us. And when I see you on that docking bay when I get back… Udina be damned, I am going to make out with you for at least ten minutes.  
_

__  
-J  
  
Garrus laughed, feeling a swell of love overtake him. He noticed a small file attached to the message and pulled it up.  He was met with one of the photos from their era photo-shoot.  
  
In it, Garrus wore his lawman uniform and was sitting on a barstool. The tin star pinned to his suit glittered in the light. Shepard leaned against him in her emerald saloon dress, planting a kiss on Garrus' cheek. Her eyes were closed and a gorgeous smile tilted the corner of her lips as she kissed him.  
  
Garrus smiled, saving the picture to his omni-tool and then typed a response to Shepard.  It was short, but he knew she'd feel the weight behind it.  
  
_Those pictures were money well spent._  
  
A few moments later, her response came through.  
  
_I knew you'd end up loving them._


End file.
